


Close to Home

by Ice_Demon_Allysandra, SiriusGetsKinky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light BDSM, M/M, Murder Mystery, Pseudo-Incest, Slow Build, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Demon_Allysandra/pseuds/Ice_Demon_Allysandra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriusGetsKinky/pseuds/SiriusGetsKinky
Summary: Harry Potter’s days are filled with great accomplishments: the job he wanted as an Auror, meaningful people surrounding him and an overall nice, peaceful life… but the hunt for a twisted new murderer drives him back to face a past he wished lay forgotten… the man locked away in a cell in Azkaban, who he hasn’t seen in eight years: Sirius Black. He can no longer escape the reminder that the present is shaped by the past.
Relationships: (side) Harry Potter/Bill Weasley, (side) Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin, (side) Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Comments: 139
Kudos: 154





	1. Monster

“You have been assigned to this mission as the main detective, Auror Potter.”

Head Auror Shacklebolt’s voice echoed in Harry James Potter’s ears as he scanned the photographs. They portrayed a string of murders. Grizzly, heartbreaking murders. After dismembering the victims, the killer would send a doll to taunt their families. A doll in the likeness of the victim. However gruesome the photos of the butchered bodies may be, it was the doll presented in front of him that made Harry uneasy the most. He carefully grasped the doll in his hands and examined it. It was uncanny just how alike they were… Not only alike the victims, but especially alike the dolls he had as a child… When he’d been, not Harry James Potter, but Harry Orion Black. He’d spend hours down in a workshop watching his hero craft beautiful dolls out of a then-unknown material using special tools and his magic to bind and shape them. But he never sent them, they were all for Harry to play with.

“Potter?” the chief called, snapping Harry out of his reminiscence.

“Yes, sir. I’ll get on the case right away,” he answered, gathering the photographs inside the files.

“Auror Ron Weasley will be appointed as your partner as usual. The testimonies of the families will be delivered in tape first thing tomorrow in your office.”

“Thank you, sir. If I may add a suggestion…”

“Yes, Potter.”

Harry knitted his brows. He wasn’t sure it would be a good idea… In fact, he could almost sense it would turn out to be a bad, bad idea, but… This was his job. It was the right thing to do, all things considered, and surely he could ignore all personal feelings in order to catch this murderer…

“I was thinking we could consult with a convicted criminal, Sirius Black. He’s currently held in Azkaban.”

“It’s not standard procedure, Potter, I’m not sure if…” Kingsley Shacklebolt scratched his bare head.

“I realise that, sir, but this killer we’re trying to catch is becoming very prolific. We could use a head start on the case, and I think we would benefit from consulting with a like-minded person. Black had a similar method in his killings.”

“He did… I’ll take your suggestion into account and try to set up a meeting. I’ll have to consult with the Minister first but I think we can arrange it. This case’s top priority, I’m sure he won’t object if we follow protocol…” the bald man was already rummaging through his desk for a parchment, scribbling a note on an interdepartmental memo, and Harry understood he could be excused.

“I’ll get right to it then, sir.”

* * *

The young man in his twenties walked down a long hallway of the infamous wizarding prison known as Azkaban. 

A small, fat man with a lime-green bowler hat walked beside him. “Mr. Potter, this man is one of our most dangerous criminals,” he said wiping his sweaty brow. They came to the dreaded cell. The monster inside wasn’t like the other inmates. He was charming. Still handsome. He enjoyed frightening Fudge and even inmates. Always demanding to know where his ‘baby’ was. “You can’t imagine what this man did…”

“Sure I can,” Harry said peering into the darkness. 

“Hi, Dad,” he said, causing the Minister to drop his hat on the filthy floor in shock. The man seemed to stumble on his words but ended up saying nothing, watching the two men look at each other after the convict emerged from the darkness of his cell.

A shiver ran through Harry’s spine as he looked his father over. He hadn’t seen him since he was taken away from him, when he was just sixteen. Eight years had passed since then, and Harry had never visited his cell. He was not allowed to, anyway. Throughout his auror career he had to visit Azkaban a couple of times, but he always managed to not come close to it. 

“I see the Dementors have treated you well,” came Harry’s bitter voice. It was meant to come out as a remark, but in truth Sirius Black didn’t seem to have aged too much. Harry guessed he would be around 42 by now. His hair fell wildly around his shoulders and his bearded face looked as handsome as ever. Only his cold eyes gave away the darkness within.

The man smirked and kept his eyes on his son, fondness emerging from the silvery coldness that usually clouded it. “What brings you to my lovely home, then?”

The Minister eyed the interaction closely, his bowler hat grasped firmly in his sweating hands. 

“There were a series of murders these past months… I’m the auror in charge of catching the murderer. He too gets off on vanishing their blood, much like you did.”

The smirk never left Sirius’ face. “I did get off on that,” he said in a light, nostalgic tone. “Don’t see how I can be of any help, though.”

Harry eyed the Minister pointedly, indicating he would like to be alone with the prisoner now. The man quickly understood and set out to the entrance; Harry had a feeling he wasn’t too keen on hanging around all these dangerous convicts.

Harry opened his briefcase on the floor and took out the files containing all information and photos of the murder sites. He jabbed one of the photographs against the bars and waited for his father to examine them with an amused expression playing his features. He jabbed another photo and waited. 

“Good technique. Could improve a bit, but still.” His face twitched in an approving smile and nod.

Scowling at the remark, Harry took a doll out of the briefcase and showed it to Sirius without a word. The man seemed to freeze in place, but quickly gained composure. 

“Sent to the family?” he asked Harry without looking up from the doll.

“Yes.”

“Purebloods?” he asked, examining the family crest on the doll’s clothing. Harry nodded. “Figures.”

A faint smirk reappeared on Sirius’ lips, almost like he was saying _I told you so._ Harry didn’t understand whether he meant that to himself or his son, but as the smirk quickly dissipated he didn’t dwell on it.

“This sick fuck is trying to finish what you started,” Harry said trying to avoid those eyes. They could make the strongest person melt and bend to their owner’s will. “You would know their mindset if that’s the case. You could see a pattern and help us find them. In exchange, I can arrange to have you moved to St. Mungo’s instead. No Dementors to be found. You get fresh air and sunlight and best of all,” he handed his father a brochure. The pamphlet showcased the beautiful grounds of St. Mungo’s and its patients walking about freely under the supervision of well-trained guard and Healers. Still...they were not cramped in a filthy cell with nothing but straw for a bed.

“Usually, patients spend 1 hour to 1 and a half hours outside but I talked to my Superiors and they agreed to 3 hours a day. Maybe paid work in an area in the hospital of your choice--”

“Not enough,” Black handed all the pamphlets and signed agreements back. Harry was stunned at his answer.

“This is more than anyone we’ve worked with has ever gotten!” Harry almost lost it. He could change his name all he wanted but he could never escape the roots of his family tree. They wrapped around him like serpents and held him tight until his life expired. Even if he wasn’t born into the Black family, he was trapped.

“That’s all lovely, Sunshine,” the older man said.

“Don’t...call me...that…” Harry clenched his fists. Sunshine. That’s what ‘Daddy’ called him long ago. And he had loved it. ‘Daddy’ had always told him he was the sunshine in his bleak life and back then he’d wanted to be just like ‘Daddy’.

“...however,” Sirius continued as if he were not interrupted. “I do not see the thing I want most in these documents,” he sighed.

Harry blinked. What prisoner in this shithole wouldn’t jump at the chance to leave this Merlin forsaken place and live out their sentence in comfort and guards that didn’t literally feed off of your misery or...if they were very unlucky...be sentenced to a fate worse than death: The Dementor’s Kiss?

“What do you want?” Harry demanded.

“Temper, temper...” Sirius reprimanded. “That’s not _my_ sweet boy.”

“Your sweet boy is gone,” he huffed and ignored his father’s smirk. “What do you want?”

“Company from my Sunshine.”

“Pardon?”

“If we’re going to be working together,” Sirius shrugged. “I figured face-to-face collaboration would be more efficient than trading letters back and forth. And I refuse to talk with anyone else. I’ve spoken with Aurors many times and it’s really no fun at all.”

“Because they break too easily from your mind games?” Harry quipped.

A warm and proud smile spread across Sirius’ features. “See, you still know your old man’s ways.”

“Knowing them doesn’t mean I like them,” Harry retorted with a cold stare.

“You’ll come around,” Sirius stated lightly, inspecting the hem of his striped shirt, seemingly not worried. “Oh and...I’d like a workshop to continue making my pretty things. My hands have been aching to work.”

Harry scowled but kept his glare. “Agreed. Do we have a deal? I have work to do.”

“Oh busy boy, I won’t keep you any longer then…” The man smirked and retreated to the dark depths of his cell. Harry could hear the distinct fuss of laying down on a bed. “You can tell your head Auror I’m in...”

Harry nodded curtly and started putting away the photos and the doll in his briefcase. He heard what sounded like a content noise and the lazy stretch of arms and legs. “You think this is just peachy, don’t you?” Harry asked with evident disgust in his voice.

Sirius laughed darkly as an answer, and Harry turned on his heel to meet Minister Fudge at the entrance.

* * *

The ride back to Headquarters was awkward. Fudge kept staring at him and looking away quickly. No one had known Black had a child. The boy had been expunged from the records and almost sent to Wool’s Orphanage before a kind young woman named Nymphadora Tonks took him in, which everyone thought was a blessing for the then sixteen-year-old. She had been a good friend of Lily Potter, the woman who was Harry’s birth mother. She and her husband, James, had been murdered in the line of duty when Harry was a toddler and he was given to Lily’s best friend and godmother, Marlene Black Nee McKinnon. She was the wife of the man who now sat in Azkaban...the man who raised Harry as his own son...a convicted murderer. 

Harry had had a tough childhood, knowing from an early age that his parents were killed, but the Black family had always been very good to him. Both Marlene and Sirius treated him like their own child, their own blood. It had been peaceful until Sirius’ killing sprees had been found. It was his adoptive mother who found out about them, along with other secrets. She lived alone with Harry for a while but the knowledge of her husband’s true colours eventually made her chronically depressed and suicidal, even to the point of hallucinating. It was clear she had to be hospitalised for her sake and her son’s. So Harry was then taken in by Nymphadora, who was an auror herself and had encouraged him to become one too. Not many coworkers knew about Harry’s family life and he had always prefered it that way.

“I’m not my father,” Harry told him, as if he sensed he needed to justify himself. “He’s not even my birth father.”

“Of course, Auror Potter, of course…” the man answered in an attempted light manner, though a grim tone seeped through. 

“He said he will help us so we need to have him moved at once to St. Mungo’s. Only myself and my partner are permitted to speak with him or he’ll close up like a clam. Don’t try to send spies or charms that will allow you to listen in. He’s smart, Minister. You can’t outfox him. The fact that he was caught at all is a miracle.’’

“Was he abusive?”

Harry looked out the rain-streaked window of the carriage. “He was… the best father anyone could ask for.”

He began to think back to the popular store his family lived above in Hogsmeade during his days at Hogwarts.

()

_The Hogwarts’ students were excited when they entered the wizard village where something was always happening. Harry in particular practically pulled his best friends, Hermione, Neville and Luna, along to a certain shop that was already getting packed._

_Black's Magic and Toys._

_A simple black sign with white letters above the door that old and young witches and wizards couldn’t resist exploring. There was something for everyone. Magic kits for the young wizard too young to hold a wand, some jokes for the teens who could not resist a bit of mischief, and even puzzles and games adults could enjoy. But Harry loved the beautiful dolls Sirius handcrafted. He himself would spend hours in the basement under the store itself painting the faces while Sirius looked on proudly, sometimes offering advice and ideas._

_Harry politely pushed through the crowd searching for the man he admired the most. He was 15 and wanted to show him the glowing marks from the grueling OWL exams. Not at the cash register. He wasn’t on the second floor...where…_

_Harry squealed as arms enveloped him and spun him around._

_“Hey! I got you!” A triumphant voice declared making Harry cry with laughter. The famous barking laugh of his hero soon joined him._

_“I’m dizzy!” Harry finally protested. “Please! Pumpkin Juice!” he cried their phrase that meant ‘I surrender’._

_“If you insist,” Sirius sighed and put his Sunshine down. “What are my favorite teens in the world up to?” he asked. “In need of a portable swamp or a game of Exploding Snap? Ladies, love potions are only 5 Galleons this week,” he winked making Hermione giggle and Luna blush thinking of a certain redhead Gryffindor girl._

_Neville looked around. “Do you sell Bubotuber pus, Mr. Black?” the usually sweet and shy boy asked._

_Sirius raised a brow. “Do let me guess: Malfoy?”_

_The trio sighed. “He gets worse every year, Dad,” Harry said. “He never lets anyone forget his family lords over all even if they come from pureblood families as well.”_

_“That may be so,” Sirius said. “But I don’t think sinking to his level is the way to go. He’ll get his just desserts one day,” he assured. “Isn’t today the day you got your O.W.L. results?”_

_Harry grew excited again and pulled out his report card. All O’s...an E in Potions. “That’s my Sunshine,” Sirius said with pride, giving Harry a sugar quill he produced from thin air. Cherry. Harry smiled._

_“I want to be an Auror one day, Dad,” he declared._

_Sirius’ smile was brief. “I’m sure you can be one if you want to, but you still have plenty of time to decide.”_

_“Yeah, I know...” Harry whipped his head around to see where a screeching laugh was coming from and immediately spotted Pansy Parkinson pointing at one of the shelves, evidently joking about something with her Slytherin friends._

_“How can someone be this obnoxious?” Hermione scolded, shaking her head in distaste._

_“Yeah, you should just ban them off the shop, Dad,” Harry added, turning to Sirius._

_“Nah...” The older man crossed his arms and looked at the girl with expressionless eyes. “Silly girl… Just let her have her fun.”_

_Harry frowned but dropped the subject. He knew his Dad was a patient man, and he actually admired that quality in him. Harry himself had never been very patient, he was often quite reckless._

_“Well, off you go. I have to see if someone’s waiting to pay.”_

_Neville and Hermione said their goodbyes and set off to join Luna, who had already wandered off to look dreamily at the potions section of the shop. Harry said goodbye as well and was about to join his friends._

_“What, no hug for me?” Sirius quirked his eyebrow at Harry._

_Harry smiled and smacked him playfully in the shoulder but hugged him anyway, pressing close to the familiar warmness. He always missed his father, he wished he could see him more often rather than just on weekends. He pulled off the hug and gave a quick jog to join his friends._

* * *

Back at the office, Harry was filling his partner Ron Weasley in on the case, as well as the rest of the team.

“So the killing method is always the same with every victim: he lures them, then uses an unknown spell to vanish their blood while still alive. We believe he does this as a message, because we’ve managed to establish that he only kills pureblood wizards. That’s his pattern. So far none of the victims have any offspring, but we’re not sure yet if this information is relevant.”

“So we could be looking at a muggleborn or half-blood suspect?” A blonde Auror asked.

“Not necessarily. I come from a pureblood family and they all hate supremacist values. We don’t support the whole pureblood bullshit,” Ron said. 

“That’s true. We still don’t know his motives, and like Ron said, there’s no reason to believe he could be of mixed blood. The criminal we are consulting is a pureblood wizard whose killings were directed towards pureblood families.”

“I was present at the time of his arrest,” said Auror Savage, an older tall man sitting at the desk on the far corner of the office. “He was brought in Azkaban laughing like mad… killed the victims with the same blood vanishing spell. I saw one of the bodies, it was pretty grim… a girl, the youngest of the Parkinsons, if I recall correctly. We might be dealing with a copycat. But Black didn’t send any dolls to the families, did he?”

“He didn’t,” Harry answered curtly.

“So we’re supposed to find one nutjob while consulting with another nutjob… great,” Ron snorted. His eyes widened as he looked at Harry. “I mean… sorry… didn’t mean to call you Dad a nutjob…” He scratched his head awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry reassured him. He was used to hearing all kinds of things about his father. Somehow he had never thought of him as a “nutjob”, either before or after finding out about his murders. He brushed those thoughts away. He needed to treat that man as the criminal he was, not as his father. 

“When’s your first meeting with him?” Ron asked. 

“It’s tomorrow. I might need to go alone this first time, he’s expecting that to happen and I think we should indulge him just a bit at first, see if he’s going to be of any help at all in this case.”

“Right. The family of the last deceased will be in for some statements, I’ll talk to them,” Ron offered. “You should head home and get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

Harry nodded. His head was pounding. He felt like a Bludger had collided into it full force. Sleep sounded so nice. He gathered his things and used the Floo Network to get to his flat in London quickly. He took a hot shower and downed two tablets for his headache but he did not wait for them to take effect. He was sleeping as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

She was no beauty, not with her heavy jaw and square heavyset build. But that was alright. Every doll was beautiful in its own, unique way. Still, one had to chuckle at the irony that her name was Millicent. A Germanic name meaning ‘She with a gentle gait’. She sobbed through her gag as she stood with her legs bound tight together. Her upper body was forced to bend forward in an uncomfortable leaning position while several thick, magical ropes suspended from the ceiling held her arms above her. Below her, at her feet, was a small cauldron not unlike those used at Hogwarts for Potions.

Her dark eyes swam with tears as a spell she’d never heard before was cast. Then she began to scream but the wails were muffled. Her pathetic sobs stopped being fun long ago. They were simply annoying at this point. Ugly, meaty sobs. She felt like she was being squeezed from her toes upward. The pressure built up to her head until hot liquid began to pour from her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

Millicent watched as her blood poured into the cauldron. Merlin, she had no idea so much blood could be in one human body. That was one of her last thoughts as she became dizzy and light-headed. Anemic. That’s when you lost too much blood, right? Funny, the blood almost looked...pretty...like...red...paint…

At least the pain stopped...at least…

The ropes were cut with a sharp “ _Diffindo!”_

There, that should be plenty for this latest masterpiece. Millicent’s body was levitated to a metal table surrounded by chemicals and sterilized surgical tools. Magic was important and necessary but this part was always more fun by hand. Her clothes were cut away and burned with magical blue flames. Before the real work began, however, the talented hand picked up a quill and crossed a name off of a list titled “ _The Sacred Twenty-Eight”._

**Bulstrode**

A project that began years ago was well under way again.


	2. Bad Romance

Ch. 2 - Bad Romance

Harry sat in the small room in St. Mungo’s. 3rd Floor. The Lestrange Ward for the Criminally Insane. It was blindingly white with a bed, a bedside table, and a chair which Harry occupied. A large, barred window allowed the inmate to look out on the beautiful grounds below. Yes, this was much more comfortable than Azkaban.

The door opened and Harry nearly jumped from his seat. His father’s hair was cut to his shoulders and the curls glossy and parted to the side. His beard and mustache had been trimmed into a goatee. Not to mention he was clean and seemed more well-fed in only twenty-four, short hours. He looked like...Dad. The dad he once knew or thought he knew.

“That was a nice hour in the sunlight,” Sirius remarked as the orderly led him to a second chair that was brought in.

Harry raised a brow. “You were permitted three hours free time.”

Sirius smiled. “I know but I wanted the next two hours with my baby boy. I was so excited you were coming that I asked them to cut outside time short today. How’s my Sunshine today? Eh...someone hasn’t shaved lately.”

“Can we get started?” Harry sighed as water and coffee was brought in for them.

Sirius motioned with his hand as though he was closing a zipper in his mouth and Harry sighed again. This was going to be tough and he already felt like screaming his head off. But, being the properly trained Auror that he was, he let those thoughts roll away to the darkest compartment of his head and straightened up in his seat.

Harry stared into the eyes of the man who had taught him to ride a broom. His heart seemed to skip a beat and his train of thought quickly unravelled. He completely forgot what he was about to say. He had prepared himself this morning, he knew this was bound to be a hard task but he knew he couldn’t be disarmed like that. How could he, though? He was standing in front of the person he had loved the most in his life; he hadn’t seen him in eight years…

Noting the awkward pause between them, Sirius smiled warmly and fondness reached his eyes. His expression was almost like one of… understanding.

‘No, don’t do that!’ Harry thought. He couldn’t deal with him being human. He’d much rather have his cold smirk back, instead of him treating him like before… like a son.

“Take a drink,” Sirius said pushing a glass of cool water toward him.

Harry blinked. “Stop! Stop acting like…”

“Like what?” the man, the monster asked.

“Stop acting like you care,” Harry clarified. Sirius seemed genuinely surprised. They said psychopaths had no feelings. They studied other people and copied their emotions in order to blend in. Like a mask. But this didn’t seem to be a mask at all. No one was this good of an actor. 

“Harry,” Sirius said, sipping from the other glass. “I’ve pretended with a number of people. Professors, fellow students, even your mother.”

That was true. Even Harry could see their marriage was more like a business transaction. They never fought or yelled in front of him but there was tension. From what he’d learned, Marlene was infatuated with Sirius since their 5th Year. Eventually, they began dating shortly after Graduation until Sirius grew bored.

His plans to leave came to a halt when she announced her pregnancy. Their wedding was extremely private and not even the Daily Prophet caught wind of it.

When no baby came, Sirius had gotten the papers drawn up at once. Funny how fate stepped in again when a certain orphaned baby was placed in their arms.

“The one person I never pretended with...was you,” Sirius finished.

Harry looked for cracks in that mask but still found none.

His green eyes went to the photos and documents. He took a deep breath.

He only managed two words.

“Why, Dad?”

It was Sirius’ time to sigh in exasperation. “I thought you were here to ask about the other murders, not mine.”

Harry just glared harder at his father.

“Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies,” Sirius said quietly.

For a few brief moments Harry considered getting up and leaving. But he wasn’t here for answers, not to his own personal questions at least, and he had no choice but to pull himself together.

“Fine. I’ll give you the photos, you’ll tell me what you think you see.” Harry spoke rather harshly. “Please,” he added a bit more softly.

Sirius took the photographs depicting the victim’s bodies. All of them shared the same bluish hue and looked almost as though they were hollow, with something missing from their bodies. He frowned at the prints as he examined closer. Long moments of silence passed as the older man regarded the various photos closely, until he finally put them down on the bedside table.

“I think I see something,” he said quietly.

“Yes?” Harry asked expectantly. He motioned with his hands for him to carry on.

“Well, I think I raised you better than this, didn’t I? You don’t just… ask something without giving something back in return, do you? That wouldn’t be polite.”

Harry stared incredulously at the look of complete seriousness on the other wizard’s face.

“I already arranged for you to move here, a much better place than that shithole which, may I add, is where you belong. You have access to a stupid workshop, hours of fresh air and sunshine -”

“Well, that’s not the kind of sunshine I want, is it?” he asked, as if Harry very well knew the answer. “And I think coming to St. Mungo’s is a bit of a favour for both of us, or would you prefer to hang out with the Dementors in said shithole?” He finished with an amused smile.

“...you want me to visit.” Harry realized.

Sirius clapped his hands. “O for Outstanding!” he laughed. That barking laugh he was famous for. Harry rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. The dick! He planned this! He wasn’t going to roll over until Harry agreed. The dog had the fox cornered.

“How often?” Harry asked. People were depending on him. Families wanted justice and people were terrified.

“Let’s say… two times a week?”

Harry shook his head in disbelief but agreed anyway. “Sure. Now about-”

“I know you all too well, Harry.” The man’s eyes flashed with warmth once again as he leaned closer in his chair. “Sure you’ll come twice a week, but you’ll just stay there glaring daggers at me. That won’t do. I want to talk to you.”

Harry crossed his arms and looked at his feet, feeling very uncomfortable.

Sirius heaved a sigh. “I won’t ask you to treat me as you did before… I’m not stupid, I know why you’re here. Let’s put it this way: you’ll answer some of my questions and I’ll answer some of yours. Fair enough?”

Harry lifted his stare off his feet and slowly looked at Sirius, knowing by now he would find the heartiest expression on his face. Sure enough, he did. The man was leaning forward in his seat and one hand ran through his long hair as he waited for an answer.

Harry never quite grew used to the bitter taste of having to admit defeat.

“Mondays and Wednesdays...and...if you do your part...I’ll add Fridays down the line,” he said and sipped the water making Sirius grin. Fuck.

He won. He always won.

* * *

They’d been sitting across from each other for an hour now. “Don’t you see it?” Sirius asked as they looked at the photos.

“See what?” Harry asked, ruffling his hair in a frustrated manner. Sirius casually pushed an old photo to sit beside the picture of Vincent Crabbe. His scarce brown hair had been removed to create the doll’s hair. Harry remembered the bastard and the times he made their lives hell. Especially Neville before he had lost the fat, gained muscle and went on to become the Herbology teacher after Sprout retired. Still, he wasn’t the shrimp Harry first met on the train looking for his toad. He did not tolerate bullies and everyone knew it so his classes went pretty smoothly.

The old photo showed…

He could hear her laughter. It was as ugly as her pug-like face.

“Pansy Parkinson. She vanished after the Holidays in our 6th Year,” Harry remembered. Sirius’ tattooed finger pointed from Crabbe to Pansy and back as if he were drawing a line. A line…

“There’s a connection,” Harry said. “They had something in common. Besides being stuck-up arseholes?”

“And how would you know they were stuck-up arseholes?”

“They went to school with me, you know that, they made my life a living hell!” Harry retorted, clearly offended by the question.

Sirius threw his hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, silently stating that Harry had understood his point.

“Well??” Harry asked, annoyed. “Is that it?”

“That’s it,” Sirius answered simply.

Silence followed as Harry tried to push aside his irritation and understand if there was anything that made sense in Sirius’ so-called clue.

“This murderer… he uses the same method as you. Lures the victims in, spells them dry with the exact same spell you invented, and the body is found at the family’s doorstep. Like a message.”

“Right.”

“But in this case, this psycho delivers a doll along with the dead body.”

“Yes.”

“A doll that looks exactly like the ones you used to design for me. Only you know how to design them.”

“Exactly.”

Harry frowned. He hadn’t seen dolls like that anywhere else and he’d been to some toy shops to buy gifts for his godson, Teddy. It was an extremely complicated magic that made the dolls special, not to mention the way their bodies were built… So how could the dolls delivered to the families have the exact same build and the exact same kind of magic inside them? How were they made from the same materials and have the same texture? Harry could tell it was the same texture, it was like his fingers had flesh memory and a mere touch to the doll could take him back to when he was a kid, playing in his bedroom.

As far as he knew, the only dolls left were the ones he kept in the back of his spare room. Could Sirius have left instructions to someone else on how to build them?

“My turn,” Sirius said.

“What?” Harry blinked.

“They took what was mine. My baby. Where?” Sirius demanded.

“Me?” Harry asked.

Sirius looked around sarcastically. “You can be so incredibly bright but then you can…” he shook his head and smiled. “It’s adorable really. Yes, you.”

Harry thought back. He’d made a deal. He got some...he had to give some…

“Alastor Moody and Kingsley took me to Wool’s Orphanage to hide me in the Muggle world. They were afraid people would gawk at me and ridicule me because my dad was a murderer. Tonks didn’t think this was fair. I shouldn’t be denied my birthright in the Wizarding world and I should finish Hogwarts. Mom had asked her to take me in...if anything happened to her.”

Sirius tilted his head and nodded slowly. “You never visited.”

“I…” Harry considered telling him the real reason why he never came to see him, but decided against it. “I wasn’t allowed. Not all inmates at Azkaban are allowed to have visitation hours.”

Sirius’ brows knitted and he opened his mouth to speak, but Harry put his hand up before he could start.

“My turn again. Did you leave instructions for someone to carry on your work? The house was searched, but you still could have provided instructions in other ways.”

Harry recalled the mess his house was left in after the thorough search the Aurors had conducted. His childhood home had been combed through, objects he held dear in his heart tagged and photographed as evidence, some taken to office to be properly analysed. Harry had managed to sneak out his dolls before he even had the chance to properly understand what his father was being accused of. As time passed and he began to understand the horrors perpetrated by him, Harry felt that he couldn’t stand to have the dolls lying around his room. He packed them in his trunk and, when he finally got a house of his own, stuck them in the far back of a room he never entered.

“I did not,” Sirius answered curtly.

“That’s just words,” Harry said matter-of-factly. Sirius looked down at his hands with a resigned expression. “I’ll need to check all your mail and I’ll be asking for the records of all the people who visited you in prison.”

“Harry, that’s really not-”

“I’m informing you beforehand so you won’t be caught by surprise. That should be good enough.”

A tense silence fell over them like a blanket. At last, Sirius spoke softly.

“Go ahead. I have nothing to hide from you.”

The urge to say ‘except for all the people killed at your hand’ gnawed at Harry like mad, but he knew better than to let the bitterness escape again. After all, he seemed to be making progress.

“My turn again, Harry.” Sirius smiled as the next question rolled out of his tongue like honey. “Do you live alone? Any boyfriend you would like to introduce to your old man?”

Harry pursed his lips and smacked the empty file folder in his lap. “That’s all I have to ask for today. Good day.”

He got up briskly and gathered the photographs angrily in the file, making his way to the door as he heard Sirius mutter “too soon, I know, I know…”.

Harry turned briefly. “His name’s Bill. He’s a nice guy. You’d like him if you were a normal dad.”

“Tut, tut. No boy will ever be good enough for my Sunshine.” It was the last thing Harry heard before he left.

* * *

Harry turned the key in the lock. True, he could use the Alohomora spell but...so could a lot of other wizards. Instead, he had a key and lock magically made to prevent this sort of thing.

The door opened with a click. The smell of food cooking assaulted his nose.

From the kitchen stepped a tall man. His long, red hair was pulled back from his face. Some time ago, he had been attacked while working at the Wizard bank Gringotts. A dangerous and deranged man named Greyback, a werewolf who had long given into his more animalistic desires, had attempted to retrieve dark artifacts from his vault before Bill and a few other brave curse breakers got in the way. As a result, his handsome face bore several deep scratches. Luckily, Greyback had been in human form and Bill only suffered wounds that would never fully heal...and an appetite for very rare meat.

“Hey, babe. Surprise!”

Harry sighed relieved. Of course it was Bill. What burglar cooked dinner for you before he robbed you?

He didn’t have to ask how Bill got in.

“I hope you plan to clean up the ash on my floor when you’re done cooking,” Harry said, hanging up his coat.

Bill tugged his dragon fang earring nervously. “Sorry, love. Forgot about that. I’m making pork chops and a treacle tart. Don’t tell me you ate either.” Guilty. Harry never had a big appetite. Even Sirius couldn’t get him to eat everything on his plate.

“Sounds good,” Harry said collapsing on the sofa.

“How did it go?” Bill asked.

“He wants to see me two to three times a week in exchange for his help...I said yes.”

The redhead hissed. “That ought to be awkward…”

Harry nodded absentmindedly but he wasn’t so sure about that. Had it been that awkward? Was that the right word for what went down on their first meeting? He might as well get used to calling it ‘visits’ from now on.

As Bill went back to the kitchen, all the while humming contently, Harry played today’s events through his mind. He had tried to prepare himself for a lot of scenarios, but the truth was that he couldn’t possibly know what to expect from a man he hadn’t seen since he was sixteen. Sirius had been ripped from him like a bandaid. That wound had never fully healed and Harry had been so afraid it would be torn open by the mere sight of him. How could it not be, the moment his own eyes locked on those silvery orbs? He had once thought he knew everything behind those eyes… he wondered what they would tell him now.

“Everything alright?” Bill snapped him out of his thoughts.

Harry jerked aware and tried to release the tension that had built in his shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“Dinner’s ready, do you want to eat right here on the sofa?”

“Yeah, sofa…” he muttered. Bill disappeared to the kitchen again. “Do you need help with the-”

A pair of plates filled with pork chops and rice floated right in front of Harry, along with the cutlery, answering his question. Bill joined him on the sofa and placed two glasses of red wine on the centre table. Harry picked up the plate of well done chops and started to eat.

“Is Ron sleeping already?” he asked.

“Err, no… He said he was staying at the Burrow tonight. Or rather… I asked him to... if that’s alright?” Bill looked questioningly at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He understood the meaning behind it. They had met a while ago but had only started dating a few weeks prior. Harry hadn’t exactly been easy to get, but Bill had been adorably persistent. There were times when Harry felt some unease, but not tonight. No, tonight he felt a sort of heat coiling deep in his groin, something he hadn’t felt in a while. He shifted on the sofa as he sipped his wine.

They talked throughout dinner. Bill told him about a particularly nasty piece of dark magic that had been ingrained on a seemingly innocent chandelier and Harry had been happy to just listen and be entertained by it. The wine was delivering a nice floating sensation to his body and he found that he was getting pleasantly lost in the motion of the redhead’s lips. Before he knew it, they came crashing on his own lips, searing them with a kiss.

Though taken by surprise, Harry greedily returned the kiss and ran his hand through the satiny ponytail, releasing the hair from its enclosure. He let himself be laid back on the couch by the warm body hovering above him. The heat he’d been feeling earlier had grown stronger. Soon, he felt Bill’s erection rubbing along his leg in a tantalising dance. They grinded against each other, kissing and touching, but a ringing in Harry’s ears kept distracting him. Something about Bill’s kiss didn’t feel quite right, like it wasn’t good enough. His own cock barely stirred in his jeans. He kept kissing him almost as if he was on auto-pilot, until the ringing in his ear seemed to slow down to a string of words that at first he couldn’t quite make up. As Bill moved his lips to nibble on the crook of his neck, Harry scrunched up his nose and focused on the words… 'no boy will ever be good enough for my Sunshine' repeated itself over and over again like a twisted, dark mantra. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the unsettling sound of what was clearly his dad’s voice but it just kept taunting him into distress. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, they kept repeating over and over and over and -

“Stop!” he yelled wildly, jerking violently and almost throwing Bill off of the sofa.

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry!” Bill yelled back, his palms spread in front of him in apology. His ginger hair was disgruntled and he had a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“No, it’s not you!” Harry replied, shaking his head in confusion.

“Should I stop?”

“Obviously,” the younger man scowled. He stood up from his seat and downed what was left of his wine.

“Harry...hey...am I going too fast? Is this...? Do you want to…”

“I don’t want to break up,” Harry said. “Bill...you know...you know who I am...where I came from. Why do you want me?”

Harry stared at the confused face of his boyfriend. It was a simple enough question for him to ask, but maybe not to answer… but it dawned on Harry that just because you know who a person is, doesn’t mean you know what that person did. He thought he already knew what the answer was going to be.

“Harry, that’s insane, you are not your father. You’re just a bit messed up because you had to see him today, is all…” he replied firmly.

Harry shook his head ominously. “I’ll have to see him a lot until the investigation comes to a close.”

The statement deflated Bill’s resolution slightly. “Well, I’ll help you through it… I can be here everyday waiting for you with a nice dinner and… and we’ll talk about whatever you want…” he tried.

Harry stiffened a bit at the thought of having Bill around everyday. It was nice to have him around, but… he wasn’t sure he was ready to have someone to come home to everyday, someone to keep him company everyday, someone to try and make him feel better everyday… if anything, it would only make him feel more miserable that someone needed to cheer him up.

All this overthinking made him feel slightly suffocated.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he muttered, and headed down the hall, leaving Bill to pace the room behind him.

He closed the door with a loud bang and sat on the toilet with the lid down, running his hand through his messy hair, messing it up even further. He stared at the ground for a good two minutes, trying to make sense of all that was going through his head. In the end, one thing was sure to him.

He was going to prove that damned mantra wrong.

No boy is good enough for my Sunshine…

* * *

Bill was cleaning up the kitchen. He could have easily used his wand but he needed to do something to take his mind off things. Mostly Bill Jr. refusing to settle down after the snogging in the sofa. It was...no pun intended...hard. Harry was gorgeous with his tousled hair and emerald green eyes. Bill wanted to see them staring up at him clouded with lust. He nearly dropped the pan he was washing when small hands came around and began unbuttoning his blue shirt.

“Harry…”

“I’ve been a bad boyfriend,” Harry purred. “Neglecting you. What with work and now this new case and my psychotic dad...I haven’t…” he kissed Bill. “thanked you properly…” another kiss to his lips, jaw, and down to his throat. “...for putting up with this crazy shit.” Those hands ran up and down Bill’s chest and down his jeans. Bill growled and picked his younger lover up so that his long legs were wrapped around his waist.

“You’re worth it, baby, ” Bill said. “Let me help you take your mind off of everything for a while,” he offered. “The dishes though…”

“Fuck the dishes!” Harry kissed him deeply.

Bill didn’t need any further prodding. He carried Harry to his bedroom.

* * *

“Harry...I’m almost there…”

“Not yet!” Harry let out as he rode Bill’s long shaft. He refused to lay under him. He loved the feeling of a stiff cock in his arse but he needed some control. “Not yet...not yet…” he nearly chanted as he tried to get his own orgasm to build.

“Ugh! Sorry…” Bill said, scrunching his face as he came. Harry followed soon after, spilling all over the freckled skin.

Harry sighed and climbed off. He slumped down next to Bill on the bed with a blank expression.

“You didn’t climax?” Bill asked, removing the used condom. He wrapped it in tissue and tossed it in the garbage can. He then cast a cleaning spell over them.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Harry sighed. “My own hand doesn’t even do it for me these days,” he admitted. And Merlin did he try. Men, women, by himself. He came but there were no fireworks. That magical, intense explosion of pleasure the dirty novels described was fucking works of fiction.

“It was fun though,” Harry said with a small smile.

Bill returned the same small smile but didn’t seem too convinced. Harry turned on his side, facing the dull white wall and Bill hesitantly spooned him from behind. They didn’t speak again, though they remained wide awake for long hours.

* * *

Harry woke up alone the next morning. He couldn’t decide if he would have preferred to wake up next to Bill or not, but he opted not to dwell on it. He got dressed, made himself some coffee and hopped on the floo to the morning briefing at the office.

It was around ten when he arrived at Sirius’ bedroom at St. Mungo’s, carrying his usual briefcase with all the files related to the new killer.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Sirius greeted casually the second Harry entered the blindingly white bedroom.

The younger wizard eyed his father sideways as he closed the door and muttered his greeting. He dragged the chair from the corner of the room and sat on it, facing Sirius who had chosen to sit at the center of the bed.

“So,” Harry started, drawing his wand and waving the briefcase open. The files gently flowed towards his lap.

“Here,” Sirius said, handing him a slightly squashed croissant that he had apparently produced out of thin air.

Harry quirked his eyebrow at him.

“You didn’t eat breakfast. You never used to,” Sirius pointed, and extended the croissant further towards his son.

“How do you know that hasn’t changed?” Harry scowled, not taking the croissant that Sirius still stubbornly waved his way.

“I took my chances,” the man shrugged with a smile. “Stole it from the cafeteria this morning. Had about four of these myself, the food sure is better than Azkaban’s.”

Hesitantly, Harry took the croissant from his father’s hand and took a small bite. “So,” he started once more, this time more firmly. “I had my team check your mail; they found nothing too suspicious. Mostly just letters from Remus, as I had expected. Some fan letters that seem a bit obsessive, they’re still working over those. And I found you didn’t have a single visitor in eight years.”

Sirius shrugged. “It’s not like there were many people I would have wanted to talk to anyway…save you. Maybe Remus. How is he, by the way? Still bouncing from job to job?”

Harry shook his head. “Things have gotten a little better for werewolves lately since Hermione started working for the Ministry.”

Sirius raised a brow. “What does she have to do with it?”

“Remus married her and she’s always been passionate about the rights of werewolves and House-Elves.”

Sirius chuckled. “What was that organization she came up with again? Spew?”

“S.P.E.W.,” Harry corrected him. He paused. “Ok, you had your first turn.” Damn, he almost got sucked in.

“Something troubling you?” Sirius asked.

“This morning I was informed there was another murder. Bulstrode. Millicent was last seen leaving work and then…”

“Poof. Like magic.” Sirius added.

“Yeah, poof… Look, you’re going to have to start giving me something useful here. There is no way these new murders aren’t connected to yours. So far, we’ve refrained from interrogating you as an accomplice but that could just as easily change if you don’t properly cooperate.”

Sirius made a mocking hissing sound.

“The only reason I’m sitting here is because I believe all these murders are connected,” Harry said in a quiet and serious tone. He thought for a moment he saw Sirius’ amused expression drop slightly. “If you don’t share my opinion, I’ll be glad to tell the Head Auror this is pointless…”

“You’ve made your point…” Sirius said slowly. “And it got across.” There was something about being scolded by the kid he had raised that stung like a bitch.

“Brilliant. Now, we need to get to the root of the problem. What made you start it? You were always outspoken against pure-blood supremacy but so are many others. What was the last straw?”

Sirius breathed in and out deeply before speaking. “Harry, have you bothered to look closely at my family? The noble and most ancient House of Black?” He leaned forwards, bitterness tainting his voice. “I used to tell you stories about them as a child. Could you possibly understand what it was like to grow up with people who spilled that pure-blood bile all over me, when I knew it deep in my heart that it was completely wrong?”

Harry kept silent as he listened.

“I made friends with so many half-bloods, so many muggleborns… Your birth mother being one of them. You can imagine how hurtful some of those remarks were; I recall your friend Hermione hearing enough of those in school.”

“But she didn’t turn to killing,” Harry retorted.

“I’d rather call it poetic justice. Tell me, has the Ministry made progress over the years in ending all this prejudice? Do you think Neville Longbottom doesn’t have to scold some of his students for using words like ‘mudblood’ or ‘mudwallower’?” Sirius stood up and didn’t wait for Harry’s answer. “Last time I managed to put my hands on the Prophet, I read Umbridge was still Senior Undersecretary and we both know what her views are.” Sirius came closer to the young wizard. “But do you mind telling me where powerful, high influencer Lucius Malfoy is?”

There was a pause before Harry answered. “He’s left the country.”

“He did, didn’t he? He used to make generous contributions to the Ministry so he could exert influence in all matters involving blood status, magical creatures and so on. After I killed his son, he fled and extinguished all Ministry connections.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s stopped being a bigot.”

“No matter. He’s stopped publicly advertising it. Same as Yaxley, I wiped him off as well. Can’t be a bigot at the Ministry if he’s dead, can he?” Sirius smiled widely.

“So what you mean to say is that your method is more efficient at stopping pure-blood bullshit than, say - Hermione’s.”

“I reckon it is.” Sirius sat down at the center of the bed again and a satisfied smile adorned his features.

Harry squared his shoulders and gave a vexed sigh. “And this copycat we might be dealing with, you reckon he’s got the same motives?”

Sirius looked his son over for what seemed like an eternity. “My turn.”

Harry should’ve seen that coming. He huffed, nodded his head and tried to prepare himself for whatever unexpected questions he could throw his way.

“What N.E.W.T.s did you get?”

That wasn’t so bad. “Mostly O’s. Got an Exceeds Expectations in Herbology and managed an Acceptable in Potions.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “We had to buy an extra thick brass cauldron because you kept melting yours in Potions.”

The ghost of a smile seemed to appear in Harry’s face before he could stop himself, but he quickly sniffed in disguise.

“Where have you been on vacation?”

“I’ve been to Ireland, Scotland… I was lucky to attend a summit about dark detectors in Venice, Italy.”

“Did you like it there?”

“Yeah, I had a couple of days just for sightseeing and it and was beautiful. Too much water, though.”

“That’s true. Who was your first?”

Harry’s body stiffened in his seat. He should’ve seen this coming too. It was just like him to ask innocent questions so he could top them off with something like this.

“Enough questions, my turn now,” Harry said sternly. He repeated his last question. “Do you think this copycat has the same motives as you? Or do you reckon it’s just a blind follower?”

Sirius pushed his back against the wall and drew his knees up. “I think he could be someone who used to look up to me and now has found the means to finish my work.”

“So maybe a fan... someone who followed your work back in the day and decided it was time to get back to it.”

“Something like that,” Sirius replied absentmindedly.

Harry stared at the files in his lap, looking but not really seeing. His stomach grumbled lightly and he resumed his munching on the croissant. When he finished it, he looked up only to find Sirius staring quietly at him. His expression was one of wonder.

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked.

“I’m allowed my private thoughts, aren’t I?”

Not that Harry cared what those thoughts were but… the answer still stung.

“I should go and get my colleagues up to speed, see if they found something weird in the letters.” Harry waved his wand and set the papers neatly back in the briefcase, shutting it with a quick flick. His head was beginning to buzz and he knew a headache was coming. “You were slightly more helpful today than yesterday.”

“Even a Dementor could pay me a better compliment than that, but I’ll take what I can get…” Sirius leaned his head against the wall and stared at the far wall with the same puzzled expression, his eyes narrowed. “For you...anything.”

Harry reached the door and opened it, hesitating before stepping out. “You really shouldn’t ask questions you know the answer to,” he said and left.


	3. Blood, Blood, Blood

Ch. 3 - Blood, Blood, Blood

The last thing Daphne Greengrass remembered was visiting her sick sister in St. Mungo’s. Her episodes were getting worse. Blood flowed from her nostrils and her eyes when she coughed. The Healers gave her a month. Two if she was lucky. Daphne had gone up to the cafe for food and returned to fall asleep on her makeshift bed next to her sister’s. Never did she imagine she was spotted and followed. She recalled the door opening but assumed it was a Healer checking on them as she fell asleep.

She blinked as she took in her surroundings, slowly waking up from her sleep. A searing pain in her neck, shoulders and back made her jump in fright but she quickly found she couldn’t move much - the clear cause of the burning pain was that her arms were stretched up and bound. She pulled at the scratchy rope in vain. She tried to look up but the intense pain on her neck made it very difficult, she managed to tilt her head upwards only slightly to catch sight of a dark brown curtain of hair. She panicked as she recognised it immediately. Her sister, Astoria, stood in the same uncomfortable position as her, still unconscious. Blood was dripping from her nose at a fine, steady rhythm, and into the small, black cauldron at her feet.

“Tory, wake up,” she whispered. She looked around, managing to rotate her neck from one side to the other, but saw no one. They were trapped in a white room, tied up to the ceiling, facing each other. 

“Tory, please wake-”

The sound of a door opening behind Daphne stopped her mid-sentence.

“Looks like your sister’s already half-way through the process herself,” came the voice of who Daphne supposed was her captor. She tried to turn so she could see who it was, but she didn’t succeed. 

“Is she--”

“She’s alive...but only just, ” the voice replied. “I expect she has little more than a minute to live. I’d say my goodbyes now.” Daphne sniffled as a name was scratched off a list pasted to one wall: **Greengrass.**

A sigh. 

“Actually,” their captor said rather coldly. “You should thank me. She didn’t have long and your parents are dead. I’m sending you with her or you’d be alone in the world.” Her green eyes stared into blank, soul-less eyes without pity. “I know what it’s like to be alone,” this monster in human shape hissed. “You should thank me,” it repeated.

Daphne looked at her sister whose tired eyes locked with hers...one last time...then...her head hung as blood spilled heavily into the cauldron.

“She didn’t scream like the others,” the captor said. “Good. That can be a bit grating. Now...give her a hug when you see her in Paradise.”

 _“_ _Ego cruentatur vobis_ _,”_ she heard...then her screams filled the white room.

* * *

Harry sipped on his coffee as he stood outside the Janus Thickey Ward. It was bad enough his dad was locked up here for the criminally insane but there was another reason he was here today. He wasn’t sure which Ward he dreaded more. The Lestrange Ward was aptly named after several members of a notorious Wizarding family known for being deeply involved in the Dark Arts but even more so for being...for lack of a better term...mad. Bonkers. Bat-shit insane...call it what you will.

And then...there was the Janus Thickey Ward. Ward 49. Here were the people treated for permanent spell damage. The lucky were hit with hexes and jinxes or incorrectly-applied spells. But that wasn’t why Harry was here. With a deep breath, he entered the double doors and walked. Each step felt more and more like he was treading through concrete but he pushed on. At last...he arrived at the section of the Ward where the patients treated here had dabbled in or encountered magic that permanently broke or destroyed their minds.

“How is she, Miriam?” he asked the motherly-looking witch. She was the Lead Healer who looked after the figure sitting in a chair by the window.

“The same,” Miriam Strout replied. “But...I think...deep down, she appreciates your visits.”

Harry shook his head. “She doesn’t know I exist,” he disagreed. 

Miriam gently pushed him forward. “Try again. Try to talk to her. I know it seems hopeless but you never know. Something might get through,” she encouraged. 

Harry relented. “You’re the boss around here,” he smiled, making her giggle. 

“Go on,” she repeated. “I have to--” she froze and hurried off chasing a blonde wizard dressed in lilac robes. “Gilderoy! Get back in here, you bad boy!” she half-scolded, half-laughed chasing her favorite patient. Apparently, he’d been some hotshot author before he was Obliviated...though...no one was sure how.

Harry chuckled. Gilderoy had made it to the gates last time. How far would he get today?

He turned back to the woman and his smile faded. Maybe if he got through to her, she could help. She knew Sirius in school. Were there signs even then? Clues to the man he’d become.

He sat down. After Sirius’ arrest, she had had a mental breakdown. The Healers had been hopeful she’d recover...until she Obliviated herself. 

She wasn’t like Lockhart who chatted happily and signed autographs. She was like a clam. Closed. Whatever pearl of knowledge or answers she contained, she wasn’t about to open up. “It’s cold for spring,” Harry began. She didn’t answer or look at him. “Miriam said you’re taking your medicine a lot better now.” Harry tried again. Nothing. Harry saw what she did. The grounds. Beautifully manicured by the groundskeepers and patients walking about with their trained escorts.

“I’d like to get outside,” he said. “Maybe take a vacation. The mountains, maybe. My friend Remus and his wife own a summer cabin…”

She jumped.

“Cabin…” she said at last. He turned to her hopefully and took her hand.

“What was that? Cabin?” he repeated. 

“Cabin…” she swallowed. 

“...Mom?” he asked, rubbing none other than the hand of his adoptive mother.

Her brown eyes slowly raised to his. He smiled. She snatched her hand as if he were filthy.

“Mom?”

“...slut.” she seethed. Her eyes were firmly locked on her son’s, dark and accusing.

“What?” Harry’s smile turned to a frown. 

“Slut,” she repeated with renewed conviction.

“I don’t think I understand, Mom,” Harry said in a shaky tone. Did he? “Slut? Who’s a slut?”

“Slut, slut, slut, slut, slut -”

“Now, now, Marlene!” Miriam Strout came rushing to the babbling woman. “Stop that!”

Marlene kept shouting the slurs at Harry as her eyes grew wider. 

“Stop that, Mom,” he pleaded. She was frantic and the bustling of the other patients, apparently triggered by her reiterations, didn’t seem to faze her. 

“Off you go, Harry!” Strout hurried him out of the ward, panting. “It takes a bit of rough magic to stop her when she’s in this state, you’re better off not seeing this.”

The door to the ward shut right in his face. He could still hear his mother, though her wails were now muffled and he could no longer make out the word she had screamed at him. 

He had never seen her in this state before. Granted, he didn’t visit much, mainly because it was always a reminder of how fucked up their lives had become. Harry could still remember Professor McGonagall escorting him off Charms class one afternoon, telling him there had been a terrible accident. He had been old enough to understand that it was only a matter of time before something happened to his adoptive mother, after all she had never recovered from the shock of finding out about Sirius’ murders. That day, he had lost his second mother. 

Rage surged through him as he was reminded of the man guilty of all this. He sprinted down the stairs to the third floor, reaching the security officials that stood at the entrance to the heavily guarded ward. He sprinted past them, showing his Auror’s badge so they wouldn’t follow. He reached the bedroom where Sirius was held, he would have kicked the door open with his rage if he could. He drew out his wand and opened it instead. 

“Harry, what a surp-” Sirius stopped in his tracks when he spotted the wand pointing threateningly at him. He didn’t move from the spot where he had been sitting on his bed, reading a book. 

“How can you live with yourself?!” Harry roared, still panting from the sprint.

Sirius sighed and put the book down, not bothering to mark the page. 

“You’d be surprised what people can live with,” he answered in a sad tone. “Or without.”

“Don’t deflect! Answer my question!” Harry demanded. 

“You’ll have to be more specific. How can I live with which part of myself? The father? The husband? The lover? The killer? The craftsman?”

“Your wife has Obliviated herself because of what you did! She’s in a right state upstairs! It’s been years since she last recognised me!” Harry shook with anger. “It’s all your fault! None of this would’ve happened if you had just- just gone away!”

“Harry, I never wanted to be her husband to begin with…” Sirius leaned against the wall. His voice was calm and composed. “I was ready to leave her when you came into our lives. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Harry shook his head, disgusted. “How can you say you love me? You’ve ruined my life. You should have left right then, if you loved me so much. You knew what you were!”

“I accepted my darkness long before I even met Marlene. I’m a Black, I couldn’t have expected the darkness to just skip me! No, I accepted it, embraced it, which is more than you could say for yourself!” Sirius’ temper seemed to flare up and he stood abruptly from the bed, even though Harry’s wand was still firmly pointed at him. 

Harry didn’t flinch. “I haven’t got any darkness to accept! I’ve worked hard to stray from your path!”

“You’re trying a bit too hard, though, aren’t you?” Sirius spat out. He straightened himself and calmly went to his bed, sitting on the same spot with his head leaning against the wall, knees drawn up. 

“Come on then, took you long enough,” Sirius said, motioning with his hand for Harry to come closer. “I was actually enjoying the book. Too bad.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked fiercely, wand still at the ready. 

“Sooner or later you had to have your revenge on me, right? At least you’ll be the last thing I see,” Sirius said blankly. 

Harry’s anger seemed to be fueled even further by this attitude. He wanted to kill him - torture him even - for all the things he’d done, for putting Marlene in harm’s way… for leaving him all alone when he needed him the most. 

“I’m not you,” Harry said, lowering his wand. “I’m not a killer.”

He walked away, shutting the door with a loud bang.

* * *

Harry was still fuming when he arrived home. He was so thankful that he had chosen to visit his mother on his day off, he honestly didn’t think he could endure a single hour of work at the office if he had to. He was still very dishevelled from the events that had taken place in St. Mungo’s, having spent the trip back to his house clenching and unclenching his fists, and locking his jaw painfully. 

He headed to the kitchen and fetched himself a big - too big - glass of firewhisky. He didn’t even bother to draw out his wand to do it, instead relishing in the harsh sounds of the cupboard doors closing with a loud thud. He gulped it down and pondered on refilling it but decided against it, as his drunken mind had often proved unhelpful in situations where anger presided over.

He’d much rather have a nice, warm bath to ease the tension away. Stripping off his clothes, he waved and prodded his wand around. In seconds he gave in to the spicy sweet scent of his newly-lit candles as the claw-foot tub filled up. It felt like the biggest comfort to be held by the near invisible shape of the steam. He tried to push all inconvenient thoughts about his adoptive parents out of his mind and just focus as the frothy bubbles he had added built up. He tried to picture a soothing place, and a cabin came to mind. 

He smiled as he remembered the cabin Marlene and Sirius owned. It had belonged to Lucretia Black, Sirius’ aunt, who had passed away before having children of her own. Sirius had reformed it, making it fit for a family to spend their vacation in. It was nice and spacious, very luxurious as was usual for the noble and most ancient House of Black. Harry settled in the bath. The hot water felt like Heaven. 

* * *

_A shadow crept across the floor of the sleeping teen’s bedroom until it was right upon him…_

_“Harry?” Sirius cooed. Harry groaned and rolled over. Sirius chuckled. “Happy birthday, baby,” he said._

_“...to you…” Harry sang sleepily._

_Sirius laughed. “No, it’s YOUR birthday, silly.”_

_Harry smiled. “To me…” he corrected himself as he sang again._

_“It’s not everyday you turn sixteen, kiddo,” Sirius said proudly. Harry groaned sleepily again._

_“Get up or I’ll tickle you,” Sirius warned. Harry raised his head. His watch on the nightstand said… “Why are you waking me up at 4 am?!” he groaned as the light clicked on. He hissed like a vampire seeing the sun._

_“Because it’s a long ride to the cabin, drama queen,” Sirius said, taking Harry’s luggage from the closet._

_“The cabin?!” Harry was out of bed and heading to shower and brush his teeth._

_“Don’t forget breakfast!” Sirius called. He always had to remind him._

_5 Hours Later_

_The drive to the cabin had been a long one. In Lucretia’s time it had been accessible by portkey, which was very convenient, seeing as the cabin had been built deep in the woods. The portkey had been deactivated so Sirius had happily suggested they rent a car and dig through the dense forest. Needless to say, they got lost again and again. It wouldn’t have happened if Mom had come with them, after all she had a great sense of location. She was amazing with a compass. But she had been unable to join her husband and son in their summer vacation since she had tons of work piling up and couldn’t be excused from her office._

_Harry was in his room unpacking his clothes. They would only be staying for about a week, so he was done with it rather quickly. He had brought along some of his homework to do, though he wasn’t looking forward to it. He expected they’d spend most of the time fishing, swimming, grilling, and, hopefully, Harry and his dad would be working on his Animagus transformation - he still needed a lot of practice, but he was close to finally being able to turn and he could feel it._

_He picked up a small bag containing his toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush which didn’t really work on his messed-up hair and a shaving blade and cream for his scarce stubble. He headed to the bathroom to store it in the cabinet._

_He whistled away as he entered the bathroom, lowering himself to open the drawer where he used to store his things. He placed all items in it and stood, looking in the foggy mirror - why was it foggy? A splash from behind him caught his attention. He looked around startled and noticed his father soaking in the claw-foot tub with his eyes closed. Harry tensed for a few seconds. He usually didn’t walk in on any of his parents while they were in the bathroom. He was about to go away to give Sirius privacy...until his knee hit the open drawer and he cried out. Sirius creaked an eye open._

_“Hey there,” he said with a smile._

_“I’m leaving! Sorry!” Harry said._

_Sirius rolled his eyes. “We’re both men, Harry. I don’t have anything you don’t,” he reminded, pouring a few drops of the creamy, deep red body wash onto the loofa and began soaping his chest, neck, and arms. Harry swallowed. Spicy Cinnamon. His signature scent._

_“Well, I’ll just be--”_

_“Could you wash my back?” Sirius asked. “It’s rather hard to reach.”_

_Harry turned back to him. Sirius was giving him a ‘Pleeeeeease?’ look. He did resemble an overgrown puppy when he did that. The image fit as in Animagi form, Sirius resembled a Scottish Deerhound. Harry hoped his form was a canine. Sirius liked to joke he’d look like Bambi. After a moment, Harry approached the tub, removed his slippers, and rolled up his pants._

_“That’s my Sunshine,” Sirius nodded and handed him the bottle._

_Harry noticed how glossy Sirius’ dark hair was as the sunlight from the window shone on the long, wet curls. Harry envied his adoptive father. His hair was perfect. Marlene was always trying to gel Harry’s hair or use Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion which, as they had told him, was created by Harry’s own paternal grandfather. Harry didn’t like it much. He just didn’t look like...Harry. He did wish his hair fell like Sirius’ at times. The curls were apparently a Black Family trait along with the famously good looks._

_“I’m turning into a prune,” Sirius’ teasing voice cut through his thoughts._

_“Right! Sorry,” Harry said._

_“Stop apologising," Sirius said._

_Harry nodded and carefully reached for the long locks. He noticed how the ends dripped water down his dad’s well-muscled back as he sat up. Harry perched on the tub with his feet in the hot water. He moved Sirius’ hair to drape over his shoulder instead. “Should I cut it?” Sirius asked. Harry shook his head then felt silly realizing Sirius was turned away from him._

_“No,” he said instead. “You look really good like this.”_

_“I?”_

_“It! It...your hair...it looks really good, ” Harry corrected himself. He poured the red substance into his hand. It was like liquid silk. He spread it on Sirius’ back and rubbed gently._

_“A little pressure,” Sirius said. Harry pressed in using his fingers. “More,” Sirius groaned. Harry’s hands trailed up to his Dad’s broad shoulders. Years of running and exercise, dog and human form, had toned his body. “My sunshine,” Sirius leaned back. The back of his wet head was against Harry’s stomach which wet his t-shirt there...but Harry didn’t mind. It was old and frayed anyway._

_The movements of his hands were repetitive and soon Harry got lost in the humming sounds Sirius made. His father’s head lulled slightly as he leaned against Harry’s stomach with his eyes closed. Harry’s own eyes travelled from the slight lines of his eyes to his lips. There was a permanent smirk framing them, a smirk that matched Sirius’ mischievous personality even when he didn’t say a word._

_A water droplet slid from his stubbled chin down the curve of his throat and Harry’s gaze followed absentmindedly, keeping his hands working at a steady pace. The droplet drifted further down, agonisingly slow towards his toned chest. It kept sliding down until it merged with the water, just barely above Sirius’ navel. Harry’s gaze focused and unfocused as he looked into the very spot it had disappeared into. It took him a moment too long to realise what he was staring at, or admire to better put it… He swallowed but couldn’t look away._

_He blinked, of course he had to look away. His gaze drifted back up his father’s body, up his chest, up the curve of his throat, his chin and lips, until it reached grey eyes staring intently back at him. It wasn’t an angry stare, not even a shocked one. Just… curious. Harry’s body stayed very still, only the movements of his wrists on his father’s shoulders didn’t cease. It was like his body wanted to play dead just as the possums that lived on the outskirts of this very cabin did. He muttered an apology, just barely audible, because he knew that playing dead would not be a sensible choice in this case._

_“Don’t apologise,” Sirius replied, his tone of voice soft yet firm._

_As if sensing that Harry was very nearly about to dig up a hole to hide in, Sirius closed his eyes once more. He should know this only allowed further explorative gazes, Harry thought. He considered returning his eyes to scrutiny, but decided against it._

_He returned dutifully - dolefully - to the task at hand until his wrists ached. He’d let his father be the one to call this to an end. The less he spoke, the better._

_“Have you had your first kiss, Sunshine?” Sirius asked._

_“What?” Harry blinked. He wasn’t surprised though. Parents often asked their kids about having a boyfriend or girlfriend, right? Especially at a coed boarding school. “No one’s kissed you?” Sirius asked._

_Harry nodded surprising Sirius. “Y-Yeah,"he confirmed._

_“Really? Who?” his Dad asked with interest. “Boy or girl?”_

_“Dad!”_

_“What? Harry, if you’re into blokes or birds, that’s your choice,” Sirius scoffed. “Your mum’s always asking you to introduce us to some nice, young girl but if you’re not into that...” he sighed. “Believe me when I say: Girls can be frustrating, confusing, and crazy as hell.”_

_That made Harry laugh. He knew all too well. Ginny was boy-crazy. Hermione wasn’t a girly-girl but she had her moments when Harry needed a break._

_“So?” Sirius urged._

_“Girl,"Harry replied at last. “Cho Chang. She’s in Ravenclaw. She’s part of our student-led DADA club.”_

_Sirius nodded. “How was it?” the older man asked._

_Harry pulled a face. “Wet. She was crying. Cedric Diggory had just left her and I guess she was using me as a rebound knowing I liked her. That’s as far as it got. I didn’t want to be used like that.” Sirius nodded again with an understanding smile. He sat up a bit._

_“They get emotional,” he said. “The women I knew, anyway,” he added. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Blokes, however…” he continued. “They’re a different story. Easier.”_

_“What do you mean?” Harry asked as Sirius turned to face him slowly._

_“You can relate to them better,” Sirius said. “We’re more forward than girls. Guys can talk more easily because we have more...in common.”_

_Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We can play rougher, too.”_

_“Indeed we can,” Sirius said. “But sometimes… a guy’s touch is just as satisfying as a girl’s…”_

_“Uh...Dad?”_

_“Ever looked at a guy’s lips, Harry?” Sirius sat up more. He reminded Harry of a King Cobra on the verge of striking._

_“No--” Harry denied._

_“Don’t lie to me, Sunshine,” Sirius interrupted. “I know you have,” he licked his own lips. “What do you think of them?”_

_Harry knew he was a red as the bottle of body wash he still held._

_“Um, well…” he began, looking anywhere but at Sirius. “They...uh...um..” he stammered like a fool. “They look… just as soft.”_

_He gasped when a hand seized his chin. “They taste just as sweet,” Sirius whispered. Like a cobra, he struck. Harry gave a muffled gasp as soft, sweet lips claimed his. Wet. Not like with Cho. Not a cold, disgusting wet. It was warm. Warm, wet, and filled with the scent of cinnamon…_

BANG! BANG BANG!

Harry jerked awake. When had he fallen asleep? The water around him had lost its bubbles long ago and was getting cold. 

“Harry!” Ron called through the door. “You alive in there, mate?!” 

Harry groaned. “Getting there,” he replied, letting the water out and grabbing his towel. He wanted to climb into his warm bed. Those plans were soon dashed.

“Well hurry and get dressed,” Ron said. “We’re needed at Headquarters.”

Harry was surprised as he opened the door. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ron sighed and read the letter he’d been sent. “Remember the Greengrass sisters?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Daphne and Astoria. Both were in Slytherin. Daphne was part of Pansy’s gang but Astoria was a little better despite...why?” he thought he knew though...Merlin, no! Please don’t let it be--

“They didn’t have family,” Ron said. “But...these were found in Astoria Greengrass’ hospital room at St. Mungo’s.” He showed Harry the photo of a group of Aurors questioning a Healer in charge of Astoria. On the bed...were two dolls hugging each other. They were crafted so they could not be separated. 

Harry wanted to vomit. “Let me get dressed then,” he said in a shaky voice.


	4. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to me, cause I'm a little unsteady. A little Unsteady...

Ch. 4-Unsteady

The bed shook in time to their friction. 

“Uhh….uhh!” a beautiful woman with thick, golden-brown curls moaned as she lay on her belly. Her husband was thrusting into her from behind as he kissed her neck. “So close…” he panted. 

“Give it to me,” she grunted. At her command, he shot his release into her for the second time that night. After a few more thrusts for good measure, Remus Lupin lay on his back.

Hermione Granger-Lupin kissed his lips and lay on his chest with his arms around her. He’d convinced her to take a well-earned break. After trusting everything to Kingsley Shacklebolt, she agreed and they hadn’t left their country home ever since. Tonks had their son, Teddy, for the weekend, giving Remus and Hermione the privacy they deserved. 

She kissed his lips which he eagerly returned while cupping her full breasts. Her hand snaked down to cup him. “Oooh, someone wants more,” Hermione purred. 

She had grown into a talented witch indeed. She worked for the ministry and strove to improve lives for werewolves, House-elves, and more. Some said she would be a favorite for Minister in some years despite attempts to muddy her name by Umbridge. Unlike Umbridge, Hermione was well-loved and respected.

Remus grinned wolfishly. “I could go all night, my love,” he told her.

Despite him being 20 years older and a former professor of hers, there was no denying their chemistry when she came of age. He had been reluctant due to his age and werewolf status but Hermione, being herself, let him know she loved him no matter what. Besides, Wolfsbane wasn’t the only precaution now. There were new potions in the works so that werewolves could learn to control the painful transformations. They’d always have their wolfish tendencies but it was possible they could change at will someday much like a Skinwalker. Now Remus worked as the DADA professor once again and was extremely popular.

“My, my,” she said. “What a big cock you have,” she said feigning fear as she playfully scooted away from him. 

He advanced. “All the better to fuck you with--” he paused. Something glowing and white was in the room. A non-corporeal Patronus. 

“Who is that?” Hermione asked. 

Remus kissed her. “I’ll only be a minute, love. It might be Dumbledore," he sighed. Why he would be contacting him in the summertime, he wasn’t sure. He got up and gestured for the orb to follow him to the kitchen. 

“Yes, what is--”

“It’s me,” a familiar voice said. Remus nearly dropped his glass of water.

“Sirius?” he asked surprised. “What is it? Why are…”

“Remus, listen,” Sirius’ voice said. He sounded desperate. “Moony...I need you to watch out for Harry. I fear this case he’s working on might break my baby.”

“Sirius, I’m not sure if…” Remus sighed. “It’s Harry’s job. Shacklebolt designated him as the main detective because he trusts him and that means he trusts his capability to keep his emotions on check.”

“Moony, in all of these years I haven’t asked you one thing--”

“Well, that’s not really true, is it?” Remus retorted in a heated tone, lowering his voice.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry! But this is really important, Remus. Keep an eye on him when you can, keep in touch with him… Make sure he’s not putting himself in danger.”

Remus pressed two fingers to his temple and massaged, closing his eyes. “Very well, Padfoot. I’ll try.”

Without another word, the silvery mist dissipated, leaving Remus alone in the kitchen pondering what he had gotten himself into. 

* * *

Back at the Auror office, Harry had gathered all of his colleagues and held a briefing about the double homicide. The pressure to catch the killer was immense, both by the Auror office, the Minister and the press. Most aurors had been assigned to this case, leaving behind tasks of lesser priority. Needless to say, this was due to the high influence of the families of the deceased; not only the recently deceased families but also by the families whose sons and daughters had been eliminated by Sirius Black. Naturally, the press and the common citizen had already associated these murders with the ones perpetrated by him.

Thankfully for Harry, all of his colleagues seemed to be sensible people and word of his family ties had not come out. It would not sit well with some people if they found the lead investigator was also the adoptive son of the murderer who started it all. 

“We’re done checking all the mail Black got. We visited the women who had sent him fan mail, in the total of seven women. Well, they were ten at first, but three of them had already died,” Auror Heafy explained, placing a number of reports on the worktable in front of Harry and Ron.

“Anything of interest?” Ron asked, skimming over some of the paperwork. 

“No, sir. None had any real connection to this man. They sent him letters and photographs, but the only answer they got was Black mocking them,” Heafy shook his head with a look of pity. “You should see these women… When Auror Steele and I announced we wished to talk about their ties to Black, their eyes would light up… As if we would finally be bringing them the mail they had been hoping for for years.”

“They’re all insane, that’s what they are,” Auror Steele, a tall, broad man remarked. “Some believe they can change a man as cruel as him… One of the younger ones we interviewed looked like she was soaking her panties…”

Ron looked sideways at Harry, who was focusing resolutely at one of the reports, seemingly ignoring the remark. 

Heafy resumed his report. “Anyway, they all turned out to have strong alibis for the nights of the murders, so that was a dead end.”

“What about the autopsy report?” Harry asked. 

“Nothing new, either. Same spell, no blood was found anywhere, not the victim’s or the killer’s. We couldn’t find traces of the magic or the kind of wand that produced it,” Steele answered.

Harry pressed his lips firmly together and stared down at the fellow Aurors. “So, four murders and no suspects to date??” he bellowed. “How the fuck’s that possible? We’re talking about the same department that managed to arrest Sirius Black!”

“Well, even then it was years after he started… He’d managed to wipe out almost all of the twenty eight by then…” Auror Savage’s voice lowered as he was under the steely-eyed gaze of Auror Potter. 

His gaze turned to the Aurors first called in St. Mungo’s after the dolls were discovered. “How about St. Mungo’s? The records? There has to be something on the record of visitors and Healers as well. I assume you’re combing through each and every person that stepped foot on the fucking hospital!” Harry’s patience was wearing thin. 

“We are, sir,” Auror Morrison said, seemingly unfazed by Harry’s exploding disposition. “We’re already well ahead on the list,” she flashed the clipboard with many names marked out. “You should be getting a notice in a while.”

“Good job, Morrison,” Harry praised, slightly calmer now as he glanced at the clipboard. “No need to set up a date, just meet me after the briefing in the interrogation room.”

Sighing heavily, he dismissed the Aurors. Everyone dispersed to their own assigned tasks, some leaving the office. Ron approached Harry and patted his shoulder. 

“We’ll tail the bastard, sooner or later,” he said. Harry nodded vacantly. 

“What d’you reckon we should do now?” Harry asked, exhausted.

“Maybe visit Black?” Ron tried. Harry deflated, he was already drained as it was. “I know you’re not looking forward to it but… You might be able to squeeze something out of him.”

Harry looked into the distance and assented with his head. 

* * *

The dreaded door opened with a squeak and Harry stepped inside. Sirius was lying under the covers, apparently asleep. His long curly hair was all mussed up and he attempted to comb it with his fingers as he blinked. 

“Morning,” Harry greeted blankly, even though it was well into the afternoon. “Get some light in here…” he waved his wand distractedly in the general direction of the closed blinds, and the room was promptly illuminated by the flickering street lamps. 

“So what brings you in this fine day?” Sirius asked, turning on his side on the bed. 

Harry dragged his usual chair to the center of the room. “You’re staying like that?”

“I’m comfortable here,” Sirius drawled in a soft voice. “I could scoot over if you want…”

Harry rolled his eyes and surprisingly refrained from showing evident disgust or wrath, which Sirius duly noted but was sensible enough not to comment. 

“Another time, then.”

“The last of the Greengrasses were killed. A whole lineage extinguished,” Harry stated plainly. 

Sirius exclaimed a faint _woohoo_ and barked a laugh. “Well, you weren’t expecting pity, were you?” he asked.

“No. But they weren’t bad people. I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with Daphne, but the other one seemed pretty decent. Ron and Hermione never had to tell her off for offending people when they were Prefects.”

“I don’t think you’re wrong, Harry… Those girls were a multitude of things; purebloods just happened to be one of them. I’m a multitude of things too, and I happen to be a killer too.” Sirius shrugged and nestled in the white sheets.

“Dad,” Harry spoke very seriously. He waited for the word to grab Sirius’ attention. He had the man’s stare all to himself. “This is important to me--”

“Don’t bother manipulating me with that,” Sirius’ stare hardened. 

“I’m not,” Harry hastened to say. “This really is important to me. I need to find out who the killer is.”

The older wizard seemed undaunted. 

“You always said you loved me and I always believed… you keep saying you do… don’t let me doubt it again.” Harry wringed his hands together. He hadn’t intended on showing emotion around Sirius, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Sirius laid staring at the ceiling now, running his fingers through his face. He stood silent for a while, pondering. Eventually he turned on his side again, facing Harry. 

“Show me the photos, then,” Sirius asked in a defeated tone. 

Harry stood up from his seat and fetched the photos of the dolls, as well as the bodies of the Slytherin sisters. Sirius sat up on the bed, legs still nestled in the sheets. Harry sat down next to him on the bed and displayed the prints in his lap.

“He left these on Astoria’s bed at St. Mungo’s,” Harry pointed at the pair of dolls, a blonde and a brunette, clinging to each other. The dolls had little details like their nails painted red, the family crest on their pretty dresses, the shoes even matched the colour of their clothes. 

“It’s the dolls you want to focus on, Harry,” Sirius stated. “Even the paint looks the same, impressive…”

Harry was having a hard time focusing now, the scent of spicy cinnamon was invading his nostrils and making him giddy. He tried to ignore it. 

“The paint? The clothes do seem custom made,” he said.

“You used to paint with me, remember?” Sirius smiled.

“Yeah…” Harry nodded, fighting the urge to sniff harder. “You had the prettiest colours.”

“Well, let’s say the primary ingredient was organic…”

Harry furrowed his brow at Sirius, trying to make sense of what he had said. Sirius raised his own brow expectantly at him. 

“Blood?! You had me paint with blood?!” Harry gasped, almost jumping out of the bed.

“With everything...are you surprised?” Sirius asked.

Harry thought. “No. Did you ever tell anyone what spell you used?” he asked.

“No. Even if I did. It’s too complicated for an amateur. They’d end up like their victims if it was done improperly,” Sirius said, staring at the ceiling. “My turn, Su...Harry.”

“Go on...Say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Call me that name,” Harry said. Sirius stared at him a moment but there was no smirk. His eyes almost seemed to mist for a second.

“My turn, Sunshine, ” he said. Harry nodded. “Did you miss me?” Sirius asked. “Did you think about me these past eight years?” Checkmate. Black King takes White Queen and the White King is trapped.

“Yes. You made me love you,” Harry admitted.

Sirius’ face fell slightly. “That’s a bit unfair… I didn’t _make_ you love me. I did so much - and I can’t stress this enough - to make you happy.”

Harry chewed on his lip and stared at his grey, honest eyes.

“I would have given it all, you know?”

Harry was jolted out of his grey-toned, cinnamon-filled trance and shook his head. “If you hadn’t been ripped from my sight when I was sixteen and needed you the most, maybe you could have,” his stare turned stern again. “My turn.”

“Yes?” Sirius asked. Harry paused thinking back to what he said. “First...when I said you made me love you...I didn’t mean by force...I meant...everything about you made me love you. The minute your lips touched mine that day...you made me love you," he clarified. “Remember?”

Sirius seemed astounded by Harry’s forwardness. He’d hoped all these years Harry wouldn’t forget, wouldn’t _regret_ … That’s what he feared the most. He had laid awake countless nights wondering if, under all the resent Harry surely had towards him, there would still be some love. Some lust. Some surrender.

Their hands inched closer...the door opened with a bang causing the pair to pull their itching fingers back. 

"Sorry I'm late. The line at the cafe was a bitch," Ron sighed holding three cups of coffee and a bag of candy. Sirius cursed the Weasley. It wasn’t fair but he resented him just for being the brother of the man Harry kissed at night. More than that, he resented them both for being able to see Harry everyday. To hear him laugh, see him smile. Bill was worse. He had possibly watched Harry sleep, touched his face, and held him through the nightmares.

“What a pleasure to see you again, Ron. How did you fair in Hogwarts?”

Ron. Poor Ron. He fell into the web.

“Eh…” he turned pink as he scratched his head. “Hermione helped a lot.” Enough said. Sirius nodded and smiled. Another trap was being set. Black King takes Red Knight. Check.

“Yes, Hermione. Didn’t you two date awhile?”

Ron stared at his coffee. Checkmate.

“Yeah...before she ran into our old professor in Hogsmeade.”

Seeing the little game Sirius was playing out, Harry narrowed his eyes coldly at him. They were still in the middle of an investigation and Ron was his partner. 

“So,” Sirius started, trying to clear the air. “You brought coffee?”

Ron stepped forward levitating the steaming cups towards the other two. They both took it. 

“I added a bit of cream in yours,” Ron said, addressing Harry. He turned to Sirius. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just… asked for black,” he finished sheepishly. 

Sirius smiled and motioned his head in an appreciative way, silently congratulating himself on letting the redhead’s guard down. 

“We’ve got loads of work to do, I think I have some leads,” Harry told Ron.

“Yeah, Steele sent us a memo saying we should head back to headquarters as soon as we can. Kingsley wants the whole team there.”

“Um, yeah,” Harry nodded, looking longingly at Sirius. “We’ll head right back.”

Sirius faked a smile and a cheer with his steaming cup. “Go on, don’t mind me… I’m just going to… meditate or something…” he muttered, sipping his coffee.

Ron stepped out of the room and Harry followed suit, not daring to look back. 

Sirius’ smile widened. He had accomplished a lot. His baby, his Sunshine was warming up to him again. He was casting his light on Sirius little by little. Sirius was dark but he thrived in the light that was Harry. Why else would he give him the nickname Sunshine?

* * *

Harry drummed his fingers on his desk. He had a small idea. Not much but it could lead to something...or nothing at all. “Have we been to any and all stores or vendors that sell antique dolls? Even regular toy stores?” he asked pushing his glasses up and rubbing his eyes. He felt a sharp pain in his head.

“Only a couple left to check by the team, but so far no good news…” Ron said, in a state of similar tiredness.

“Right,” Harry sighed, close to admitting defeat on the lead. “My eyes are burning already, I’m going to head home. You coming?”

Ron shook his head groomily and started scrawling something on a piece of parchment. “I’ll stay and wait for the news on the last stores.”

Harry headed to the lift, not really seeing or thinking. His feet guided him to the floo networks and he was standing in his living room in no time. He sat on the sofa, feeling his body sink in the cushions. He could just fall asleep right there… he closed his eyes…

He jerked awake. He’d just started drifting off when the image of a doll came to his mind. Not any particular doll, just a doll his father had crafted for him when he was around eleven. He hadn’t seen or touched those dolls for eight years, the only exception being when he put them away in the spare room of his shared flat. Even then he’d avoided touching or sparing a glance to them. 

He stood up from the sofa and walked along the dim corridor, reaching the door to the spare room. He turned on the light and spotted the shelves where he had placed the dolls. He could feel his fingers tingle as he got closer to the shelves, and he could already see the darker corner where they had sat idly for years. 

She hadn’t been pretty. She had a face like a pug. A heavy face. Yet, Daddy had done her a favor and ‘fixed’ her face. He made her pretty. Harry had stroked her dark hair. It was so real to the touch. He’d flung himself at Sirius and thanked him as Sirius laughed and danced him around the kitchen on that special birthday. He’d also received his Hogwarts letter which made it extra special. Harry barely touched the sweater Marlene had made him or the set of brass scales and telescope.

Harry gripped his untidy hair. The pug-faced doll was gone. The blond doll with the palest skin was gone. That doll had always reminded him of Draco Malfoy. He’d been nasty… the nastiest.

_“He should have been the first to go.”_

He remembered Sirius saying that as he’d read the Daily Prophet that morning when he read Draco was missing and Harry admired the pale, blond doll.

Gone...gone...gone…

“I’m losing my mind...I’m losing my mind...I’m losing my fucking mind!” he yelled to no one.

This could not be a coincidence… someone was playing games with him, taunting him… it was either a bad joke or an attempt to mock him.

His mind was dizzy with running thoughts, he could barely make sense of them. He was an Auror, he'd managed to climb the hierarchy quickly and that hadn't sat well with many people. Could it be someone trying to torment him? Have some petty revenge? Many people would have access to the informations about Sirius' murders, they were public record. The dolls his father had given him wouldn't be on the record as they had never before been included, but someone could just as easily have followed him, broken into his house… 

The jumble of thoughts was clouding over his mind and suddenly only one thing made sense. 

Thunder rumbled in the night sky, followed by the inevitable lightning that split the night sky. Heavy rain fell in icy sheets but Harry didn’t care. He was out the door and in the lift in mere moments. Soon, he was running down the streets as if a hound from Hell was after him. If there was one, it couldn’t catch up as he ran seemingly blindly. In reality, his feet followed a familiar path. The redbricks of a condemned department store called Purge and Sowse, Ltd. came into view. Harry climbed through a broken window. Any onlookers foolish enough to be out would think him mad or drunk but no one wanted to risk the heavy rains and the possibility of being struck by lightning. 

The building was a front for the magical gateway into St. Mungo’s. Harry coughed as he pleaded with the inanimate dummy to allow him entrance. It seemed to take pity on him and Harry found himself in a blessedly empty reception room. The Night Healer at the desk must have been buying coffee. Sneaking was easy. Harry learned from the best. He didn’t have to flash a badge. A simple utterance of _Alohomora_ was his key. 

He knew the room number. 113. He nearly laughed. Did anyone realize 11/3 was HIS birthday? More coincidence? 

" _Alohomora_ ," he cast with a trembling voice. 

CLICK!

The man in his blindingly white bed looked up startled. It was rare when you startled Sirius Orion Black the Third.

White...white...everything was so fucking white! Harry grabbed his wand and with an aggressive flick he extinguished the bright light that illuminated the room. The street lamps and the moonlight were the only lights shed on them.

“Harry?” Sirius put his book down. A muggle book. Flowers in the Attic about four siblings locked up in an attic by a selfish mother more concerned about money, and slowly...the two eldest siblings grew unnaturally close...another fucked up family. “What are you doing here? You’re soaked to the bone!”

Sirius sat up. He had his feet in his St. Mungo’s issued slippers when Harry’s wet head was pressed against his stomach, soaking the material of his hospital robes. Harry was sobbing. “Sunshine?” Sirius asked when he found his voice after the shock of his adoptive son, and the light of his life, had collapsed to his knees, clinging to him sobbing.

“Hold...hold onto me…” Harry begged. “Hold onto me...because I’m a little unsteady. If you love me...don’t let go.”

Sirius was still stricken by shock at such an unexpected attitude. He drew himself closer to Harry, hugging him tight and lightly caressing his dripping hair. Sirius took Harry’s wand and cast a hot air charm over him, drying him. 

“It’ll be alright, Sunshine,” he assured softly.

“I don-don’t see how,” Harry sobbed, head still pressed against his father’s stomach.

“Come here.” Sirius pulled him up, dragging his body to lay down next to him on the bed. Harry inched closer, burying his face in the warmth of Sirius’ chest. Sirius drew the sheets over them and began stroking his hair in smooth, slow motions.

Harry focused on the steady beats of his father’s heart and they soon calmed him, until there were no more sobs, just deep breaths. He closed his eyes.

* * *

_The summer heat would be almost unbearable if it weren’t for the occasional breeze sweeping through the trees. They’d had a fun day, hiking and lounging near the lake, where they took a swim. As the sun began to set, they headed to the cabin. It was nearing dinner time._

_“How about we have some take-out? I don’t really feel like going near the stove in this heat,” Sirius said. “I think the nearest town has both indian and chinese.”_

_“Oooh, I want chinese,” Harry said excitedly._

_“Let's see if they have owl-delivery." Sirius picked up the pamphlet that had been delivered in their mailbox, filled with moving pictures of delectable dishes. "Good, it does. I'll place the order then."_

_"I want--"_

_"Noodles, I know," Sirius smiled as Harry nodded eagerly._

_"I'll go finish my homework then."_

_Harry strolled lazily to his bedroom, discarding his shirt on the floor so he could cool off. He picked up the Potions textbook and the parchment, which already had a couple of lines on the uses of Moonstone powder. It wasn’t exactly an easy subject to write an essay about, and the textbook was often unclear. He sat on his bed and got started on it, scribbling some more lines from what he had gathered in the textbook, until he eventually got stuck on the issue of powdered Moonstone_ versus _powdered root of Asphodel in the Draught of Living Death. He scowled and got up, balancing his textbook, parchment and bottle of ink in his hands and grabbing the quill with his mouth. He went to the kitchen._

_“I ‘eed ‘elp,” he told Sirius, muffled by the quill._

_Sirius squinted at the weird sentence but understood as soon as Harry clumsily dropped the pile on the kitchen table where Sirius was sitting, nearly spilling the ink over the magazine he had been reading._

_Harry opened the textbook in the correct page next to the stretched parchment and stood by his father’s side. Sirius pulled him by the waist to sit on his lap._

_“What don’t you understand?” he asked, reading the scribbled lines diagonally._

_“Well, I don't understand what the book says about powdered root of Asphodel,” Harry replied, adjusting himself on Sirius’ lap and leaning forward on the table to have a proper look at the textbook._

_Sirius sneaked a hand around his waist as he skimmed through the book, searching for the chapter on roots. “Let me give it a read first, I don’t remember much of it,” he said, leaning forward as well to read along with Harry, pressing against his bare back._

_“There,” Harry pointed with his finger as soon as he spotted the paragraph on Asphodel root. He let his body relax in Sirius’ lap as he read it, his quill tickling his face lightly. It was nice to feel the warmth of another body around him, even if it was still very hot at this time of the evening. It was a different kind of warmth. Harry let himself become slightly drowsy with the scent of the man beneath him._

_He was sliding slowly along his legs so Sirius pulled him around his waist towards him. The friction made Harry squirm, which only increased the friction even more. He let out a barely audible gasp as a delicious sensation shot through his groin. He’d lost track of what he was reading, and started on the first sentence again._

_He barely spared a thought to what he was doing, he just needed the sensation to last. He slowly grinded his arse against his father’s groin, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He could feel Sirius’ breath against the back of his ear, he was so close to it he could almost hear it… a light moan reached his ear and he couldn’t help but let out one himself. He kept grinding agonisingly slowly, feeling the pressure on his groin become close to unbearable, but he didn’t dare touch it now. He could feel Sirius’ cock press hard against the thin fabric of his shorts, and he could almost imagine it just being skin on skin._

_His fists were clenched on the table, one of them close to breaking the quill in two. Harry himself felt close to breaking, no longer able to stand the friction. He kept grinding, feeling the pleasure build up inside him. From behind him he was sure he could hear low moans and pants similar to his. The tremble of Sirius’ grip on his waist told him he was close too. He closed his eyes as he focused on the sensations. He felt a strong hand snake around his throat, encircling it, choking him. The lack of air tipped him over the edge and he convulsed in Sirius’ lap, coming and biting his hand in the hope it would muffle his moans._

_His eyes were still closed when he was pulled up and bent roughly over the table, Sirius’ body pressed close to his naked back and pining his wrist with one hand. Sirius unzipped his own jeans hastily and Harry felt a rush of skin which was undoubtedly the older man stroking his cock, followed by a growl. Sirius came in hot spurts over his hand, some of it spilling over Harry’s back. Panting, he leaned against the boy, feeling the searing heat of his skin, wishing he too didn’t have his shirt on. Both breathed heavily, not speaking a word, until a loud hoot was heard on the window. The delivery-owl had arrived, grasping a steaming plastic bag on its beak. Both turned their heads to look at it._

_“I-I’ll get it,” Harry muttered._

_Sirius released his wrist and stepped away from his bent body and Harry got up, dragging himself to the counter to grab the wallet. From the corner of his eye he saw Sirius wave his wand several times and he felt his boxers unstick from his groin. He opened the window to let the owl in and tossed some sickles its way, lightly scratching her head after it nipped his finger. He retrieved the bag and closed the window, noticing the plates and cutlery were already neatly placed on each side of the table. They sat down to eat in silence._

_“I think if you added Moonstone powder to the potion instead of powdered root of Asphodel the draught would cause the drinker to never wake up again,” Sirius said after a while between bites of his rice._

_Still munching, Harry grabbed the slightly bent quill and dipped it in ink, scribbling away. They finished dinner in silence, the only sounds coming from the gentle wheeze of the trees and the quill scratching the parchment._

* * *

He woke up to the first rays of sun that filled the room with a warm, faint light. Yesterday’s storm had passed. Harry still lay with his head pressed against Sirius’ chest. He let himself be immersed in the heat emanating from him and willingly let the scent of spicy cinnamon invade him. 

“Better now?” Sirius asked in a still sleepy voice, smiling lazily down at Harry.

Harry nodded, slightly embarrassed that he acted like a little boy the past night.

“The guards will be here any minute now to escort the inmates to the cafeteria…” he said. 

“Yes, they will,” Sirius said in a light voice, gazing dreamily at Harry. He gently pushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. 

Harry pushed himself on his elbows, ready to push himself up from the bed. Before he was all the way up, he plucked up the courage and pressed a deep kiss on Sirius’ lips. He finally stood up, grabbed his wand and combed hastily through his hair. He looked at the older man and silently thanked him for not pushing, for accepting what he had given without demanding more. 

The sound of people talking in the far end of the corridor jerked Harry aware that he needed to get going before he was caught out of visiting hours. Not even being an Auror could excuse him for that, he thought. He opened the door. 

“Thank you,” he said, and sneaked out into the corridor, leaving Sirius to stretch in his bed and daydream while staring at the ceiling. 

* * *

“Where did you go last night?” Ron asked at work the next morning. “I got up to wake you up for work and your bed was made. Did you go to Bill’s?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head. “I woke up early. You can sleep through a hurricane so you didn’t notice,” he lied smoothly. It was true Ron was a deep sleeper so it was a good alibi. 

Ron looked disappointed. “I hoped you were at Bill’s. He’s been asking about you. He thinks he did something wrong or you’re seeing someone else.”

If only Bill knew…

“He didn’t do anything and I’m not seeing anyone,” Harry said. “I don’t mean to make him worry but I’m trying to protect him. If this sick bastard catches on that we are after him, he might target people close to us. Bill’s an amazing guy and I don’t want him to get hurt. Tell him that, ok?” Harry asked. He examined the list. There didn’t seem to be a pattern. The killer wasn’t going in order and didn’t seem to be targeting ALL of the Sacred 28. Just those known to be eyeballs deep in their Pure-Blood supremacy bullshit.

“Tell him yourself,” Ron said. Harry raised a brow.

“What?” he asked. Something was up.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything…” No. Oh fuck no!

“Bill’s planning to take you somewhere romantic--” Ron began. 

“I don’t havetime," Harry said. 

“Then break up with him!” Ron snapped. “Harry, you’re a friend but...this is my brother. Don’t lead him on, ok?” 

“Ron, I wouldn’t…” Ron frowned at him. “Ron, don’t worry. I don’t intend to hurt him." 

Ron nodded half-heartedly and headed towards the coffee machine, where he started talking to Auror Steele. Harry was left at his desk feeling his stomach knot. As he ran his fingers through his head he could already feel sweat gathering in his forehead. His breathing was becoming erratic. He stood from his seat and rushed to the bathroom, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. 

He locked himself inside one of the stalls on the far end of the bathroom, which was feeling warmer than ever. He sat on top of the lid, supporting his head on his bent arms, pulling at his hair. This was all going downhill. He should have seen this coming… of course he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but deep down he knew this was the _actual_ reason he had never, in eight years, visited his father in Azkaban. He knew old feelings would resurface and he would not be able to keep them under control. And now he was dating Bill… he wasn’t even sure why in the first place, it felt good to be around him but now his whole perspective had shifted. How could it not? He couldn’t stop himself from comparing the man he’d known his whole life, and how he made him feel, to Bill. Now Ron was keeping a close watch on him and to top it all of, there was still the bizarre fact that some of the dolls had disappeared who knows how by who knows who. He had to find out how that had happened but he would have to do it without the aid of the Aurors. 


	5. Love me like you do

Ch. 5-Love Me Like You Do

The teenager smacked her huge wad of pink bubblegum as she rang him up. Harry was reminded of a cow chewing its cud. If the cow had dirty-blonde hair with the tips dyed a rainbow of colors and hadn’t washed it in a week. Harry figured Jesse, as her name tag read, was forced to work here by her family to teach her responsibility. 

“This is gonna cost you a lot, sugar,” she said. Harry always did look a few years younger than his actual age. Before he came to this muggle store in London, he’d had the goblins at Gringotts transfer some of his vast savings to muggle money. He handed her the money she asked for without batting an eye making her eyes widen briefly. “What are you? A private investigator?” Jesse asked, popping her gum again. 

“Something like that. Keep the change,” Harry said, grabbing the large bag and walking out.

* * *

The flat was rigged with tiny cameras. Not even Ron would notice them. Harry could see the feed from his laptop. He was a wizard but he enjoyed muggle technology as well. He groaned and rubbed his head after everything was set up. He found himself staring at nothing. His mind was on a day that started out sunny, with a different kind of camera.

* * *

_“Keep up, Sunshine,” Sirius said without even sounding short of breath._

_“Easy for you to say,” Harry panted, wiping his sweaty brow. His dad was the definition of health and fitness. He hoped when he mastered his animagus form, Sirius would take him running so he too could gain some muscle. He was skinny and scrawny though Sirius said he was a very good looking scrawny stick. This joke always made Harry pout._

_Finally, the trail brought them to a cliff that overlooked the beautiful valley their cabin nestled in. “Got the camera?” Sirius asked. They enjoyed making photo albums of their adventures._

_Harry held it up and snapped a few pictures of the valley and surrounding wildlife. It was gorgeous here. Maybe they could take the flying motorcycle next time instead of the car._

_“Let me have that. I see a lovely specimen I want to capture,” Sirius said._

_Harry eagerly handed the camera over and looked around for a stag. He loved stags. They reminded him of his birth dad. Sirius said James was also an Animagus who took the form of a stag. Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, Marlene, and a chubby kid named Peter were all good friends. Peter fell in with the wrong crowd though and just up and vanished. His poor mum was sent a finger one day in the mail and she was never the same._

_“Where?” Harry asked. He heard the shutter click and turned. The camera was right on him._

_“Dad! No! I’m a mess!” he protested but Sirius just kept taking pictures. Harry made a grab but stumbled and fell to his knees, right in front of Sirius’ crotch. Luckily, they were safely away from the edge. Harry had grabbed Sirius’ jean clad hips to steady himself. “S-sorry…” he blushed._

_He tried to get up. Sirius' hand held him in place. His hand was on Harry’s head. Harry recalled the kiss and the grinding. He felt his pants tighten and he had a feeling Sirius was feeling it too, if the tent in his jeans was any indication. “Dad?” he asked._

_“Take it out,” Sirius commanded._

_“Your…”_

_“My cock,” Sirius nodded. Harry stared at the tent in front of him and hesitantly eased the zipper down and then unfastened the button. The jeans slid down and Harry looked up. “My boxers, too,” his adoptive father said._

_Harry tugged down the white boxers as well. Sirius’ cock sprung free and stood proud in front of him. Sirius smiled._

_“That’s my sunshine. Now...why don’t you show me what you were doing with my cock in your dream last night?”_

_“My...my dream?” Harry asked, stunned. “I didn’t…” the hand in his hair tightened._

_“Lying will get you a spanking,” Sirius said. “I love to check on you when you’re asleep and make sure you’re okay. I noticed you writhing around in the sheets calling my name. Your fingers were in your mouth.”_

_Harry gaped a couple of times but found he couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t recall what he had been dreaming, he often didn’t, but he did wake up in messy sheets… he’d hoped his father wouldn’t see it but maybe he had._

_He turned his gaze to the leaking hard cock mere inches away from his face, demanding to be taken by full lips. He barely had an idea of what to do but he couldn’t deny that his mouth was watering at the sight and scent. It was stronger and muskier, but still cinnamon-like. He reached with a trembling hand and took hold of the erection around the base. It felt heavy and hot. He gave it an experimental squeeze, to which Sirius responded with a low, encouraging grunt._

_“Open your mouth,” Sirius instructed. Harry opened his mouth and came closer, enveloping the head with his tongue and capturing a small drop of precum. It tasted nice, though a bit bitter. “Take as much as you can,” Sirius groaned. “Massage the rest with your...Harry!” The teen’s hand had gone to cup his balls and sac._

_Harry took the risk and did what he enjoyed doing to himself with his own balls. As he did so, he engulfed Sirius’ thick cock with more confidence, bobbing his head and taking in more of his length. It felt so warm in his mouth, so delicious. He felt so filthy doing something like this, and in the open of all things… but that only made it hotter. He risked a glance through his eyelashes at his father and relished in his delighted expression, eyes closed and head thrown back._

_Sirius’ hand tightened in his hair. Harry moaned and locked eyes with his father...his...father. Harry paused. They weren’t blood-related but...this man had raised him from the age of one. Harry struggled until Sirius released him. “Harry?” Sirius panted. Harry shook his head and removed Sirius’ cock from his mouth, scooted back a bit, then rose to his feet cautiously. He turned to run down the path._

_Strong hands grabbed his hip and pulled until his pert arse was pressed to the thick cock he had just been sucking. Harry stiffened as warm lips touched his ear, followed by a wet tongue tracing the shell._

_“Run,” Sirius whispered and spanked his arse firmly. Harry gasped at the sensation. He almost felt the spot tingling. Sirius released him and Harry was off. This time, it wasn’t out of disgust or shame. He was running...to entice the beast chasing him. He heard massive paws somewhere behind him. Padfoot was on the hunt. Harry knew he could easily chase him down but he was purposefully keeping his distance to enjoy the game._

_Down the dirt trail, Harry ran. The way marked with colorful ribbons he and Sirius had put up long ago to show the way to the cliff where they had spent so many summers having picnics and taking pictures like a real, proper family. A howl reminded Harry of the current situation. He felt his side start to burn. Above him, the sun was obscured by dark clouds. Suddenly, heavy rain soaked the earth. It felt good on his hot skin but he couldn’t stop to enjoy it now._

_He made it to the cabin but he wasn’t safe. He never was. The Beast would win. He always won. It was a matter of time._

_Dashing into the cabin, Harry ran blindly...right into the Beast’s lair. He’d made a mistake...or maybe he really wanted to be caught. He stopped to catch his breath. It wasn’t long before he heard the door shut and lock. Not to keep anyone out...but him in. Arms grabbed him and pinned him to the wall before he was lifted so that his thin legs wrapped around Sirius’ waist._

_Harry barely had the time to gasp in surprise. He’d almost forgot Sirius was this fierce, this determined to get what he wanted… he was glad_ he _was what he wanted. They kissed, tongues swirling as Harry’s hands roamed Sirius’ back freely, clinging to his shirt as though he could rip it with bare hands._

_“Do you still want to run?” Sirius asked with a smirk. He bit Harry’s lower lip for good measure._

_“No,” Harry moaned in answer._

_“Good,” the older wizard said._

_Harry’s legs were slipping from his father’s hold so he spun them both around until Sirius was the one with his back to the wall. Harry locked his arms around his father’s neck and kissed him deeply. Now Sirius’ hands were the ones free to roam Harry’s body. He stripped off his shirt and felt the flesh on his fingers, warm and needy. Harry reacted to every squeeze and scratch of his fingernails, hissing deliciously in his mouth. His hands travelled lower, to his arse, cupping it firmly. He moved his hands to the front, cupping the erection and wasting no time to open the fly of his jeans._

_He lowered the boy’s boxers down while he nibbled at his neck, and their cocks touched. Harry pressed himself closer, finally able to feel its heat against his own skin. Sirius’ hands travelled back to the boy’s arse, slapping it. Through their kiss, Harry gasped. A moan followed and Sirius took that as encouragement to slap his arse again. He struck him again and again, each time feeling the soft skin hotter, pulsing, and Harry’s arms loosening their grip on his neck, as if he would crumble any time._

_“Look at me. I want to see your face,” Sirius demanded, grabbing Harry’s jaw and forcing his eyes on him. Harry complied, looking straight into his silvery eyes. Sirius moved his hand from the boy’s jaw to his throat and applied searing pressure. He spanked his arse again and again, each cheek gaining his hand’s attention, until Harry was a quivering mess under his stranglehold._

_“So...good…” Harry whispered as a tear stained his cheek._

_Sirius dragged him to the bed and sat on its edge. He pulled Harry over his knees. “Count,” he commanded as he rubbed Harry’s cheeks to warm them before bringing his hand down._

_“1...2...3…4,” Harry began._

_The room filled with his moans and shrieks of pleasure. “5...6...7...8…” Harry counted._

_“My Sunshine. Mine!” Sirius yelled and brought his hand down again._

_“9...10!” Harry finished with the final spank._

_Sirius shuddered. He got off on control. “Your mum never let me do that. She’s a dead fish in bed,” he informed, rubbing Harry’s hot bottom. “Gonna run away from Daddy?" he asked._

_“No,” Harry said._

_“No...what?” Sirius asked._

_“No, Daddy,” Harry corrected himself._

_“Good boy,” Sirius praised, feeling Harry’s skin tingle with goosebumps as he ran his hands down his back. “Your skin is so smooth…”_

_“Better than Mom’s?” Harry heard himself ask. He felt a sickening thrill from saying it… this was their secret and the fact that his mother could find out only made him tingle more. He’d never been this high._

_“You’re such a naughty boy, talking like that… I’ll have to spank you again…”_

_His hands hit the tender skin once more, again and again, until Harry was no longer mewling, but crying out. Sirius could feel the boy’s erection straining against his thighs. Harry’s head was spinning to the point he couldn’t see clear anymore. Sirius panted. He’d never been so fucking turned on and his resume of sexual experience was extensive._

_“I want to fuck you, Harry. I want to feel you in my bones.”_

_“What are you waiting for?” Harry asked._

_Sirius tossed him onto the mattress, making Harry chuckle. Sirius went to his bedside table and opened the drawer to retrieve a bottle of clear fluid. “Do you know what this is?” he asked._

_“Lube,” Harry said._

_“Yes,” Sirius nodded, opening the bottle._

_Harry blinked remembering something. “Daddy...don’t we need...something else?”_

_Sirius barked a laugh. “You think Daddy planned this, baby boy?” he winked making Harry blush. “Are we not wizards, Harry?” he asked picking up his wand. “Watch closely. Listen.” He cast the spell on his own genitals and Harry’s tight, virgin hole._

_“_ Praesidium, _” he recited the incantation._

_“Protection,” Harry said._

_Sirius winked and nodded proudly._

_He lubed his cock from base to tip and sat against the headboard. “Come here,” he pulled Harry to straddle his hips and inserted two fingers into his passage._

_Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, bracing against the burn he knew would come, but he was so aroused he barely felt it. It felt delicious to have his hole stretched like that, and when he looked into Sirius’ face he saw him staring with a look of utter worship… it amazed him how one could show such firmness and devotion at the same time._

_Harry put his hands on Sirius’ tattooed chest so he could push himself up and down, setting his own rhythm. He felt Sirius’ hand at his waist to lever him up and then he felt a third finger push into him. He moaned, ready to be filled with Sirius’ thick cock instead._

_“Ready?” the older man asked. Harry nodded and felt his member replace his fingers. He pressed his forehead to Sirius’ as he pushed in, inch by inch, until Harry was fully seated._

_“So tight,” Sirius groaned. “I should divorce Mummy and make you my new wifey,” he joked, making Harry giggle again._

_“She’d be so angry,” Harry whispered, rocking his hips._

_“I don’t give a shit,” Sirius grunted. He held Harry tight as he helped lift Harry up and down on his cock. Their lips met again as the storm outside raged._

_“Tell me,” Sirius whispered as he kissed Harry’s exposed throat after the young man tilted his head back in pure ecstasy. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded gently._

_Harry chuckled but teased him by saying nothing. He squealed when a large hand slapped his arse. “Tell me!” Sirius roared._

_“I’m yours!” Harry cried out._

_“Forever?” Sirius asked._

_Harry looked him in the eyes and kissed him. “Forever is not long at all,” he purred. “I’m yours for eternity.”_

_“That’s my boy,” Sirius said in a hoarse voice. His breath was becoming heavier as they rocked together, their rhythm going faster. He could feel Harry’s cock rubbing against his stomach, soaking it with precum. He cupped the boy’s arse and bent his knees so he could shift them and be on top of Harry. He picked up his pace, hearing Harry’s moans right against his ear, driving him insane._

_“Gonna cum in you, Harry. Fill you with my seed. I’m going to love you so that no other man will compare.”_

_Harry smiled. “No boy is good enough for your Sunshine,” he said. Sirius growled in response and bit the tender skin on his neck, sucking and muffling his moans. Harry came, white painting their bodies, and soon he heard Sirius growl and spill inside him, filling him further._

_“Harry…”_

_“I love you,” Harry panted._

_Sirius looked deep into the boy’s eyes. “I love you too,” he said, smiling warmly._

_“I meant… I love,_ love _you,” Harry stated, trying to clear the difference. He saw so much more than the man who had raised him. He’d been scared he would take him as just a child, just a joke…_

_“I love, love you too, like that…” Sirius grinned widely._

_Harry was usually jumpy when a storm came but right now, he snuggled into Sirius’ arms not hearing a sound or seeing a single flash._

_“What about Mum?” he asked. Sirius held him as Harry used his chest as a pillow._

_“I’ll think of something,” he muttered. Harry nodded. They fell asleep listening to the rain on the window._

* * *

Harry jerked awake. Damn, he had a bad habit of falling asleep in the strangest places. He remembered the cameras suddenly and turned on his laptop and went to make peach flavored tea. He inhaled the scent as he viewed the screen. The cameras had a clear view of the flat. The living area, the breakfast nook, his room, and his private room where he kept the dolls. He sipped his tea. Ron would never have to know he slipped a camera in there. The intruder might try to attack either of them in their sleep. Harry zoomed in on the dolls, smirking at his brilliant plan.

His mug shattered on the hardwood floor.

No...no...no...no!!

Harry rubbed his eyes and looked again but what he saw...or didn’t see...was very real.

The spot beside the missing pale blond doll, which oddly resembled Malfoy, was also empty. How could this be?! Why was this happening and who was fucking with him?!

* * *

The paint was washed away with a spell. The doll reshaped carefully by skilled hands. In the same room, Gregory Goyle was strung up. He was heavily muscled but he’d been no match to the strong magic enforced on him. By the time he was aware of his surroundings, he was bound from ankles to wrists. 

“Wakey, wakey,” a mocking, cold voice called. Goyle squinted but couldn’t make out any features thanks to a hooded cloak. He saw pale hands working on a toy though. A doll?

“My wife…” Goyle groaned. “My wife will be wondering where…”

“Your wife is away on her business trip,” the voice said. “Did you know she’s been fucking Marcus Flint? I found out from a few days of studying your house. But then...you never were that bright. Just like your pal Crabbe. Without Malfoy, I doubt you two would have gotten through Year 1 of Hogwarts. Be patient over there. I’m almost finished.”

“Hey, listen. I have money. Let me go and I’ll give you what you want.”

“The money you get from buying and selling dark artifacts? Or the bribes to keep people silent about your illegal activities?” the person asked. Their s’s ended in a slight hiss. “Your wife can have it all. Flint’s not much but he’s an upgrade over you,” they said.

They turned the doll over in their hands. “Ah, we just need paint. Stupid boy. He thinks something as silly as a muggle camera will help him...”

Goyle was sure the head under the hood shook in a disapproving way.

“Stupid...silly,” they said. “He’s just not ready yet. He’s not ready to know me.” They stood up. “Are you ready, Gregory? Ready to see Draco and Vincent again?” they asked almost sweetly as if offering a gift.

“No!” Goyle struggled but it was no use.

_“Ego cruentatur vobis.”_

Goyle felt a pressure in his toes. It worked its way up rapidly until he was spewing blood from his eyes, nose, mouth, and even ears. 

The hand didn’t move to the list of Sacred 28. Goyle wasn’t there. Neither was Crabbe. The reasons for their deaths meant so much more. The hood fell back so Goyle could take a look before he died. Cold eyes watched the blood pour into the cauldron. So much in one human body. A cold laugh became a crazed cackle. 

“The haze is about to clear up. Don’t you worry,” they promised. “You poor little, lost lamb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to push two very important buttons: KUDOS and BOOKMARK, so you can keep up with the updates that will come weekly!  
> Hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> Also, we're going to have a bit of fun. Each chapter is based on song lyrics or song titles. Do you think you can name them all? Leave your comments below  
> Extra points for the full title, artist, and genre!


	6. Sweet Dreams (are made of this)

Ch. 6 - Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

Harry rolled into work the next morning with an even messier head of hair, distraught looking face and ruffled clothes. He sat at his desk trying to look merely sleep struck so he wouldn’t stand out so much from the other Aurors. 

“Hey,” Ron called out, approaching his desk. “Brought you some coffee. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, taking the steaming cup but not drinking. He wanted nothing more than to down it at once, but he knew coffee didn’t work too well while paired with anxiety… he’d just leave it to warm his hands…

“So, first Crabbe and now Goyle, huh…” Ron commented, sighing. “I mean, they were always assholes… but still…”

Harry nodded distractedly as he watched the commotion in the large office. Aurors of all degree and ranking were walking around, talking to one another, discussing the ongoing investigation, some scribbling away violently either reports or interdepartmental memos, some were staring at the board containing photos and various traced lines, trying to understand what the missing puzzle piece was. It was all hands on deck. 

Harry knew the answer to all the questions popping in these Auror’s minds had to have something to do with him. There was no denying now the dolls had to have come from his own house. He couldn’t even begin to understand _how_ the killer had sneaked past the cameras planted all over the flat. 

He knew he had to see the one person who could help clear this all out, once and for all.

* * *

“This is a nice change,” Sirius said as they sat at a stone table outside.

Harry shrugged. “It was a beautiful day and I thought the fresh air would be good for both of us,” he replied.

It was the first time they had spent outside on a sunny, spring day in a long time. “You’re not having sweet dream,” Sirius pointed out, sending his bishop across the board.

“How do you--”

“A daddy knows,” Sirius said.

Harry nodded. “Pawn to E5.” The white pawn shook its head.

“Do you not see his Knight?” it asked incredulously.

Oh...right. “I had a pretty good one last night,” Harry said and managed to take Sirius’ Knight with a change of strategy.

“Oh?” Sirius asked, more interested in this piece of information than their game. “Care to share?” he sipped his water. He was trusted enough by the staff for things like that...or he just used his powers of charm on the more susceptible ones.

“Mm-hm,” Harry nodded. “I’ve been remembering bits and pieces of our last summer at the cabin. It’s like a puzzle that’s been coming together and last night, I remembered the sudden storm and...the...the bedroom.” He blushed a pretty dusty rose color. Not pink like Ron’s ears. Harry’s blush lit up his cheeks and his nose.

Sirius grinned. It was a kind of grin reserved for his baby. “I knew you’d come around to me, Sunshine,” he said. “Check.”

Harry pulled his King back so that he was safe for the time being.

“We can’t avoid the nasty part forever,” Sirius said. “As much as I’d love to reminisce about our time...and we will...there is something heavy on your mind and it’s outweighing the good memories.” How did he know so damn much by just looking at Harry?

“Okay,” Harry said ruffling his hair.

“James did that,” Sirius said. “Mostly to impress Lily, but it was also a nervous habit.” 

Harry smiled. When this was all over, he wanted to hear about them again. Marlene was a good mum but Harry was always a Daddy’s boy. Tonks was a wonderful lady taking in a kid who was almost a man, and now raising a great kid in Teddy - he was Remus’ son as well from a period where both were lonely but in the end, it ended as Remus pined for Hermione and Tonks just needed someone for that moment. However, Harry was interested in learning all about his birth parents. Apparently James and Sirius were quite the pair in school and his mum was a beauty and a talented witch. So much so, not even the bullies of their day dared fuck with her. Marlene used to joke she was envious of her best friend...Harry suspected it wasn’t a joke.

“Okay,” Harry repeated. “I went to London out of desperation and bought a security system complete with cameras.”

“The muggle way,” Sirius said. 

“Like I said, I was desperate,” Harry said. “I hooked it all up and waited grinning like the Cheshire Cat.” 

Sirius raised a brow. “Back up, Sunshine. Waiting for what? What’s with the security system?” Knight takes White Bishop.

“Oh…” Harry blushed. “Well...how do I put this...the dolls you gave me...I still have them. I have a spare room I use as my office and the dolls have their own corner. But some have been going missing. I think the killer knows I’m on to him...or her...whoever they are.”

“So you think the killer broke in and stole them?” Sirius asked, sipping from his cup. 

“Yes, obviously. No one else knows about the dolls. They know you crafted them, but you never sent them. You just crafted them for the shop and for me,” Harry explained. “But no one knows I’ve kept those dolls. I managed to take some with me under the cloak when they searched the house.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “And the cameras, did they show anyone?”

“No.”

“But there’s been a new murder? That Goyle piece of shit, kept bullying you?”

“Yes… and there’s another doll missing… The cameras were set and working, I don’t understand how they managed to slip inside without being filmed… I’m guessing they moved carefully, studying the blind spots…” Harry sighed and seemed to deflate in his chair, sinking in it and running his hands tiredly through his face.

Sirius reached out with his hand and took Harry’s off his face.

“I… I don’t understand, Dad,” he said in a small voice. “If they’re trying to mock me, they sure as hell are succeeding…”

Sirius held his hand tight and exhaled in silence.

“You know, don't you?” Harry asked. 

“Indeed, but like a good parent, I can't just tell you the answer. You have to learn on your own even if it's not easy,” Sirius said, rubbing Harry's hand.

“Give me a clue,” he pleaded. 

Sirius kissed his forehead and then whispered into his ear. “This person is close to home.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and thought for a while. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

Sirius just smiled and shrugged.

“You’re not going to help at all in this case, are you?” Harry huffed. 

“You didn’t _really_ think I would help you catch this killer, did you?” he replied, smirking. “That’s not why you wanted to come in the first place.”

“I should just tell Kingsley these visits are pointless and just quit them then,” Harry said.

“Yes, but I don’t think you will, will you?” Sirius asked, looking down pointedly at their still joint hands. 

Harry huffed in exasperation again, but couldn’t defeat his father’s logic.

“You know,” Sirius said, looking around him and examining the closed patio. “This is fun and all… but I think I’d like it better if I could chase you around. You always were a slippery little minx...”

Harry smiled shyly at him. “I don’t think the guards would be very pleased if you started chasing me around and pinning me against walls…”

“Yeah… they’d pin _me_ to the ground in no time, instead…” They both chuckled. 

Harry looked at his watch and sighed. “I should go now… See if the other Aurors came up with something useful…” He found he didn’t really want to go. 

Sirius nodded and grinned. “So no goodbye kiss today, then?” he asked, looking around at the wardens guarding the door and the few fellow inmates that wandered the patio.

Harry looked around as well, squinting in the sun. “No… I guess not…” 

Sirius gave him a squeeze on the hand and let go, allowing Harry to stand up. “Too bad. Maybe you can make it up to me next time we’re indoors,” he smirked.

Harry smiled playfully and started walking towards the door. “Maybe.” He gave his father one last smile and stepped inside. Sirius stared at the chess board.

It was a draw for now.

* * *

Harry arrived at the Ministry feeling slightly better. The more time he spent with Sirius, the better. Why he stayed away for eight years seemed ridiculous now. Maybe when this case was over, he could ask if he could drop by daily and start bringing gifts or outside food for Sirius. The guy got on to him for skipping breakfast when he himself was on the slim side. Harry hoped he could help Sirius regain the muscles he had before his arrest. He was daydreaming so much, he nearly collided into Kingsley Shacklebolt coming out of a lift. 

The tall wizard raised a hand to stop Harry.

“Go home, Potter, ” he said.

“What for?” Harry asked dumbfounded. “I’m working on--”

“Yes,” the black man said kindly. “You’re running yourself headfirst into the ground if you ask me and we’re all worried about you. We nagged the Minister until he agreed to give you some time off to rest. There’s nothing new on the case and you’ll just be wasting your entire day and half the night slumped over your desk over nothing.”

“...sleep does sound nice. Are you sure you don’t need me?” he asked, ruffling his hair. He felt a deep surge of respect for Kingsley and the others and would be sure to buy them all gifts that expressed his gratitude.

Meanwhile, he thought this suited him perfectly. Of course he loved his job, and if it were any other case he would have thrown a fit for all the office to hear; he wouldn’t just let himself be dismissed from such a huge case, regardless of the dismissal being for a few weeks or whole months. This case, however, was much, much more different. He was sure no one at the station had connected the dots yet, and it was up to him to dig deeper and understand the connection before anyone else beat him to it. He needed to find out who this person was, and what the hell “close to home” could possibly mean. 

He rushed home to get his much needed sleep. When he woke up, everything would change. The hunt was on, and the killer was about to be caught in his own fucking web. But for now, he’d sleep. Along the way, he thought of another happy memory. He was getting these more and more. They were a pleasant distraction from the shit piling up around him.

* * *

_It was_ _just past 5 p.m. on a late summer afternoon. Harry walked down a muggle street, busy with people. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. It had been a hot day but thankfully a gentle breeze was starting to pass and the sun was already low in the sky. He turned a corner and he could already see a big sign at the top of a glass door indicating “Wicked Bones Tattoo Parlor”._

_He was going to surprise his father, who was getting a tattoo. His appointment had been at 3 p.m. and he had come alone because Marlene was working and Harry had been visiting Hermione. She lived in a muggle neighbourhood not too far from the parlor so he had decided to surprise him and walk home with him after he was done. He was eager to see the tattoo. Sirius hadn’t told him what it was or where it was, but Harry was sure he’d like it. He loved all of his tattoos. Some were muggle made and others were magical. Harry couldn’t wait to have one himself, but he still had long years to wait, he was only 14._

_He reached the shop and entered. It was painted mostly in black and burgundy with weird artefacts hanging out of the walls. One of the walls had a life-sized hand-drawn Harley Davidson bike, and Harry understood why Sirius had chosen this place for a tattoo. He stepped further inside the store and peeked at the first cubicle, where a young lady was getting a cherry blossom tree tattoo on her side. He walked faster, not wanting to intrude on her privacy, mostly because she was wearing only a bra._

_He reached the second cubicle and saw his father laying down on a tattoo table with his chest bared. A dark-haired woman was leaning over him, tattooing him, and she was full of tattoos herself. He stepped inside the cubicle and saw that her tattoo machine was hovering over Sirius’ sternum, where large black lines were already inked in. He stared at Sirius’ face, shining with sweat as the man knitted his brows in a pained expression. His whole body seemed to be covered in a thin sheet of sweat, most likely from the pain he was enduring._

_“Hi,” Harry greeted timidly._

_The buzzing of the machine stopped and both the tattoo artist and Sirius looked up._

_“Harry?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows. “What’re you doing here?”_

_“I wanted to surprise you,” the boy said with a small smile. He came closer to the table and admired the work which was almost complete. It looked like an alchemical symbol… he’d have to ask him what it meant later._

_“You can pull that chair and sit closer if you want. I’m almost done here,” the woman said._

_Harry pulled the chair closer as she suggested, and sat on the opposite side of her. Sirius sat back down and the buzzing sound resumed. Harry leaned closer to examine the fine needlework, amazed at it. It looked painful, really painful. He could see some of the toned muscles on his father’s stomach contracting slightly, shimmering with sweat under the bright light of the studio. He was once again knitting his brow and he hissed lowly after a particularly deep line was etched. Harry felt a tingle after hearing the hissing sound. He could see his dad clenching his jaw tightly. He’d never noticed his dad had such toned muscles, but now he could clearly see them. He could see the tattoo looked amazing on his bare chest, it complemented the rune tattoos he already had on his upper stomach… dark ink on pale skin. The woman’s voice snapped him out of his musings._

_“All done now,” the woman said, stretching her back and putting the machine away._

_“Fuck, that was a hard one…” Sirius told her in a hoarse voice._

_“It’s a sternum tattoo, what d’you expect?” she chuckled._

_Sirius hissed again and stood, walking over to the full mirror to inspect it closely. He whistled and turned back to Harry, coming closer to him._

_“So? You like it?” Sirius asked with an excited voice, putting his hands on his hips so Harry could have a clear view._

_Harry examined the tattoo and nodded. “Yeah, it looks pretty cool,” he said. He lingered over the reddened skin, taking his time to examine the other tattoos as well, taking in their surroundings. Sirius turned his back and walked towards the mirror again, assessing the lines and a wide grin. He could see Harry in the mirror from where he was standing. The boy was looking dreamily at the far end of his backside. Sirius smirked._

_“Let me just put a bandage on it and you’re good to go,” the lady said, standing up from her seat with a big roll of bandage and scissors on her hands._

_Harry watched as she covered the freshly inked skin, her long fingers dragging across his father’s chest while applying the tape. He suddenly became aware that he was staring for longer than he should have and looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt._

_“Let’s go, kiddo.” Sirius approached him and put a hand on his shoulder._

_Harry nodded and stood up, waving the lady goodbye. They stepped out of the shop. Sirius put his arm on Harry’s shoulder and they started their lazy walk back home, enjoying the last warm rays of light. “Mom was working late so…” Harry began._

_“I’m glad you came,” Sirius said. “She hates watching anyway. Ever since I got my first few.”_

_Harry looked up. “When was that?”_

_Sirius smirked. “Oh...5th Year. We...Papa-James and I that is...knew a guy in Hogsmeade. I told you we were rebels.”_

_“Fifteen?” Harry repeated._

_“Don’t even think about it, Sunshine. I told you, no tattoos until you’re…”_

_“Eighteen,” Harry recited. “But I already have an idea for mine.”_

_“Oh?” Sirius asked, leading Harry into their favorite smoothie shop. They enjoyed a lot of muggle areas actually. Harry ordered vanilla. Sirius favoured orange-mango. A lot of women were staring at Sirius and blushing. Even women clearly wearing wedding bands and some older women as well. Sirius usually liked the attention but his focus was on his favorite person in the world._

_“I borrowed Hermione’s text about Ancient Runes and found one called Sowilo. The Sun. It represents many things including success, goals achieved, and, of course, the life-force. But it really reminds me of the nickname you gave me and I really like it because it looks like an S.”_

_“S as in...Sirius? As in me?” Sirius smirked, sipping his cold smoothie._

_“Yes. What do you think?” Harry asked._

_“If that’s what you want,” Sirius nodded. “I’m honoured you’d want something that means a lot to you. Just...don’t cover yourself in them. You’re much too pretty,” he winked._

_“Dad!” Harry whined. “Boys aren’t pretty.”_

_Sirius chuckled. “If you say so...beautiful,” he laughed when Harry tossed his crumpled napkin at him._

* * *

Harry was about to head home when he decided he should stop by his boyfriend’s place. He felt bad for neglecting Bill and maybe he could finally get up the guts to call it off. Bill was a great guy but he needed someone who wasn’t busy...and...considering a jailhouse affair with his own adoptive dad. The young Auror dropped the Floo Powder and called, “Shell Cottage!” The green flames surrounded him and whisked him off.

Harry coughed as he stumbled from the fireplace. He’d hated using the Floo Network ever since his first time using it to go to Diagon Alley at age 11. Instead of “Diagon Alley!”, he’d gotten nervous and cried “Diagaonelly!”, ending up in Knockturn Alley instead. Sirius and Marlene had been frantically searching for him when Hagrid, who had been there luckily, came up to them with a soot-covered Harry with broken glasses.

He brushed himself off and looked around. Bill didn’t seem to be home at first but then he heard sounds coming from upstairs. He followed them all the way to Bill’s bedroom. It was open ajar and the sounds were obviously grunts of pleasure...and not just Bill’s. Harry pushed the door open. This was usually the part where a partner felt rage and started crying but Harry felt...ok, he felt a little mad it ended this way. He hoped it would be over coffee or tea on the couch.

Bill and a woman with silvery-blonde hair jumped hearing the door hit the wall. “Harry!” Bill exclaimed. 

“Zis is your ex-boyfriend?” The woman was French. Made sense. Bill liked French things.

“Ex?” Harry asked. “Wow, Bill, you could have told me we were over. I mean, I was on my way to break things off like a decent person but hey, this works, too, I suppose. Hi, I’m Harry,” he said, turning to the woman. “And I guess the arsehole you’re fucking is your problem now.” He turned to leave. 

“Harry!” Bill called. “Harry, wait--!” he called following Harry back to the fireplace. “I can explain…”

“Bill, I came here to apologize to YOU. To tell YOU I was leaving because you deserve someone who can give you the attention and love you deserve,” Harry said reaching for the Floo Powder in the pot sitting on the brick ledge of the fireplace. 

Bill ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Baby, listen...this...she...yes, I was upset because you’ve been distant but we can fix this. I’ll throw her out and we can sit down and talk. We can work this--”

“No,” Harry said. “How long, Bill?” he asked.

His lover...his ex-lover sighed.

“Fuck, Harry…”

“How long?” Harry repeated.

The redhead shrugged. “Three weeks,” he admitted.

Harry nodded. “She’s pretty,” he said. “I wish you both luck. Goodbye.”

He tossed the powder and ignored Bill’s pleading. The green flames surrounded him and he was gone.

* * *

Harry had to admit, he slept really well. His dreams took him back to the cabin. Not long after that first time in fact. 

* * *

_“Harry, baby, come here,” Sirius patted his knee._

_“No!” Harry cried as he paced. That morning, he’d woken to Sirius staring at him and his hands roaming his naked body. Harry was hit hard with what they had done last night. He’d had sex with his father. The husband of the woman who’d taken in and raised her dead best friend’s son. A man who had been best friends with his birth father!_

_“You’re my...my dad…” Harry said, stopping his pacing around the kitchen. Sirius watched from the kitchen table dressed only in his boxers. Why couldn’t he put on some fucking pants?!_

_“Harry, I raised you,” he said. “But...I am not your father by birth. My family have been practicing incest for generations. My parents were second cousins. If it weren’t for our magic, we’d all have humped backs, tails and hooves for feet from all the inbreeding,” he joked which made Harry giggle a little._

_Sirius pulled Harry to him and sat him in his lap. “Sunshine,” he continued. “You call me ‘Dad’ but are we blood-related?”_

_Harry stared into his gray eyes. “No,” he said at last._

_“No,” Sirius repeated with a smile._

_“But you’re married to--” Harry began. Sirius kissed him. A chaste kiss but one of love and desire. His kisses with Marlene were cold and empty. She knew it was one-sided on her part but she was grasping at flimsy, dry straws on the verge of breaking. Sirius pulled back._

_“For you...anything,” he said. “I know you love her like a mother and I’m grateful to her that she kept her vow to Lily and raised you well, but she’s not the one I dream of. She’s not the one I want to go to bed holding and the one I want to wake up to each morning. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I’ll let you go and we’ll never discuss this again. We’ll go back to pretending to be the perfect family--”_

_Harry kissed him this time._

_“I don’t want to pretend,” he admitted._

_Sirius smiled. “I’m supposed to take us back tomorrow.”_

_Harry nodded. “Yeah, ” he replied._

_Sirius kissed his neck. “Fuck it,” he said spanking Harry’s arse. “We had a bit of car trouble, yeah?” Another spank. Harry cried out and adjusted himself so that he was straddling his dad. He began to grind against his cock with his own._

_“Yeah,” he agreed. “Car trouble. Too dangerous to drive.”_

_The following three days were a haze of sex, take-out and sleep. They’d wake up and stare into each other’s eyes. Surprisingly, they didn’t talk much. Maybe it wasn’t surprising at all since they had known each other for so long. They knew everything there was to know about one another. The only thing they hadn’t had the chance to know was each other’s bodies, and they were dedicated to learning every inch. They didn’t need words for that._

_They arrived at Hogsmeade and settled in their old life. Marlene would fawn over both of them, sad that they had been apart for so long. Harry had a hard time looking away whenever she came too close to Sirius. His father would catch him staring and he’d give him a wicked smirk. The bastard would even give a slight slap to her bottom just to spite him! Harry would feel a wave of sickening jealousy washing over him, but also a tempting heat swirling in his crotch._

_Whenever Marlene went to take a shower, Sirius would corner him around the house and kiss him, pinning him to the wall and grinding like mad until they were both gasping, hands messily stroking each other’s cocks beneath their jeans. A wave of Sirius’ wand would clear away any evidence of what they did._

_They were having breakfast one saturday morning. Marlene had woken up and made pancakes with syrup and berries. Harry joined his parents at the kitchen table, sitting opposite from Sirius. He nibbled lazily on the stack of pancakes, sinking comfortably on his chair._

_“Pass me the Quibbler, honey,” Marlene asked her husband. She took the paper from his hands and opened it in the finance section, stretching the pages in front of her face._

_Harry peeked at his father through his eyelashes and noticed he was staring at him. Harry stared back and winked at him. Looking sideways at his mother, he stretched his leg and put it on his father’s lap. He saw him adjust on his seat and nearly choke on his berries. Harry smirked. Sirius was always the one who advanced on him and had him pinned, he was always the one in control. Not this time._

_He moved his bare foot until he felt the bulge in Sirius’ pants. He rubbed it until he felt his cock stir under his touch._

_Sirius sent him a look that promised him he would be punished later. “Do we need anything from the store?” Marlene asked._

_“Can we make treacle tart?” Harry asked excitedly._

_Marlene raised her brow. “I suppose but...some of the ingredients are at the market in the next town over. Do you want to come with me?”_

_Harry shook his head. “I have to finish my essay.’’ The one he finished days ago._

_“Sirius? How about you?” she asked. His flirting made her think their marriage was back on track._

_He gave her a lopsided smile and batted Harry’s foot away without success. “There’s a doll I want to finish carving today, sorry. Why don’t you ask Lana to come with you?”_

_“Yeah... I’ll ask Lana…” she answered, nibbling on her lip anxiously. She looked at Harry’s empty plate. “Do you want me to fix you more pancakes, dear?”_

_“Yes, mom. Can I have two more?” Harry asked, sinking lower in his chair so he could have a better angle on Sirius’ crotch._

_Marlene nodded and stood from the table, turning to the stove and turning the heat back on. Harry stretched his other leg on Sirius’ crotch and rubbed both feet on either side of his growing erection. Sirius placed both hands on his feet but didn’t push away this time, instead moving them slowly. He let his head fall back a bit and closed his eyes._

_Harry hummed happily as he moved his feet. He felt Sirius draw his pajama pants down to expose his cock and Harry continued his movements, this time flesh on flesh. He massaged his own cock at the same pace as his feet, staring at his father’s delectable neck. Through the corner of his eye he saw Marlene turn from the stove. He coughed loudly, snapping Sirius out of his pleasurable trance._

_“Do you want some too, Sirius?” she asked with a spatula on her hands._

_“Er, yes,” he replied in an uneasy tone. She turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake she was baking._

_Sirius picked up his phone. Marlene didn’t understand her boy's fascination with muggle devices but she supposed Sirius’ began as a child, when he would purposefully piss off his pure-blood supremacist mother. Harry felt his own phone vibrate and peeked at it. He blushed at what he read._

**_I hope you’re enjoying massaging my dick...it’ll be down your throat when she leaves. -Love, Daddy._ **

_Harry’s eyes were huge. He glanced at Sirius who gave his own wink. The power was back in his hands. Where it belonged. For now._

_“Get some fruit and whipped cream while you’re out,” Sirius told his wife. “And I need some thin rope as well.”_

_“What do you need rope for?” she asked crossly._

_“For a doll, of course,” he answered, smirking at Harry. The boy responded by squeezing his feet together extra hard, and a groan erupted from the man’s lips. Harry had to cover his mouth with his hands to stop his laughter._

_Sirius mouthed ‘you little shit’ and bit his hand, and that just riled Harry up more. He kept squeezing harder with his feet, feeling dampness and precum on his skin. He braced himself with his left hand on his chair and he tried to pump harder, both with his feet and his right hand. He kept stealing sideways glances at his mother to see if she was about to turn, but she seemed completely oblivious to their exchange under the table._

_They had to stop when she returned to fill their plates. “I’m glad Harry’s eating something,” she said. Getting him to eat breakfast was like pulling the teeth of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Sirius rubbed her bottom. The bastard._

_“I’ll make sure he’s well-fed by the time you get back. Oh and...I need a large jar of Vaseline.”_

_Harry started to choke. Marlene spun around._

_“Went down the wrong way,” he coughed._

_“Careful, Sunshine.” Sirius sipped his coffee. “It’s best to take small mouthfuls at a time.”_

_Marlene finished up and made a long list. “I’m taking the car,” she said. “The chimney floo seems to be blocked up.”_

_“I’ll look at it later,” Sirius promised. She kissed his lips. Harry noticed his gray eyes stayed open even as hers slid shut. She pulled back._

_“Be back later!” she promised and grabbed the car keys._

_As soon as the noisy, old car (it would help them know when she returned) was out of sight and they could no longer hear it, they ran to Harry’s bedroom and slammed the door. Harry loved being chased and Sirius loved being the one to chase down his prey and pin him to the wall, bed, or floor._

* * *

_“You’re a naughty, little cocktease,” Sirius grunted as Harry bobbed his head, keeping eye contact with Sirius. He wasn’t allowed to look away._

_“Mm-hmm,” Harry agreed with a nod. His hands were massaging his balls and sac and the rest of the shaft Harry couldn’t quite fit in._

_Sirius laced his hands through his messy hair and forced him to suck faster and deeper. He could hear occasional choking sounds and see Harry’s eyes tearing up but he knew his boy could take it. He knew he liked it rough and unapologetic._

_“Do you know what the rope is for?” Sirius asked in a hoarse voice. Harry hummed in denial while keeping his rhythm. “I’m going to tie you up from the ceiling with your wrists and legs bound.” He pulled harder on Harry’s hair, making the boy grunt through his mouthful. “You’ll just have to take it while I fill your warm mouth and your tight arse.”_

_Harry moaned at the thought._

_“Will you be a good boy for me, Sunshine?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded. “Will you swallow every last drop?”_

_Harry nodded and felt the strong hands in his hair bob his head faster, until he saw Sirius throw his head back and moan loud, filling his mouth with his seed. Like a good boy, Harry swallowed, just as promised. He slowed down his movements, instead licking away softly at the last single droplets. The hands on his hair relaxed and rubbed gently on the spots where they had pulled tightly._

_“Such a good boy,” Sirius praised._

_Harry let go of his cock, replacing his mouth with his hands. “You’re still hard.”_

_“See what you do to me, Sunshine? You know what you have to do, don’t you?”_

_Harry stood up and nodded with wide, insatiable eyes. “I’ll have to try harder for Daddy,” he said, biting his lip in a way that always drove Sirius crazy._

_The older man captured the bitten lower lip in his own and sucked greedily on it. He backed the boy until he hit the desk and he spun him around so that Harry was bending over the surface. Sirius summoned the lube from his son’s nightstand and coated his fingers, wasting no time and inserting two inside Harry’s tight hole. He fingered him relentlessly until Harry’s legs were trembling. He coated his cock in the thick substance and pushed inside roughly, making Harry scream in pleasure and grab the edge of the desk with both hands._

_Sirius fucked him at a fast pace, pumping into him ruthlessly. He grabbed Harry’s wrists and pulled them together over his arched back, using them as leverage to fuck Harry harder._

_In the midst of the sound of skin against skin and moaning, they didn’t hear the sound of an old engine running outside the doorway._

_That perfect morning was the last time the two would share moments of pleasure for a long time. Not too long after, Harry’s world fell apart._


	7. Ooh, look what you made me do!

Ch. 7 - Ooh, Look What You Made Me Do!

Harry checked the laptop before he left for his meeting with Sirius. 

Nothing. 

He grabbed his keys and a box off his desk. It was black with a gold ribbon on top. It would be easy for the guards to open and inspect. He left his flat after making sure the fireplace was sealed, just in case a certain cheater thought about dropping in unexpectedly. Ron had been furious when Harry told him what he’d found in Bill’s cottage. He told Harry he’d have a long discussion with his eldest brother but Harry waved the idea off. “It’s not worth it,” Harry had warned. “We were already on the rocks. If it was meant to be, we wouldn’t be here today,” he said over drinks. Ron had considered this and agreed. But he was still pissed his ‘cool’ brother had gone and fucked some French floozy when he had a ‘sexy as hell’ boyfriend risking his life for the wizarding community by hunting down a murderous psycho. This made Harry feel warm and blessed to have Ron as a friend.

The walk to the condemned department store was a pleasant one. He passed through the broken window and the mannequin permitted him entry into the magical hospital. 

“Harry!” Miriam greeted at the front desk. She had just arrived for her shift in the Janus Thickey Ward. 

“How is my mother?” Harry asked. 

“Well...she’s calm. Maybe you could try again sometime?” the sweet witch asked hopefully. 

“I’ll think about it,” Harry said, remembering his adoptive mum’s violent outbursts.

_ “Slut! Slut! Slut!”  _

Her harsh cries echoed in his ears. He considered this. Did she know? Had she seen something? If so, he never heard her mention it. The only thing he recalled was the worst fight from his parents, and Sirius telling her to ‘keep her fucking mouth shut’ or ‘else’. He’d been arrested soon after. Harry had been cooking dinner. Sirius and Marlene were downstairs in the basement. There was a soft popping sound, the sound of someone apparating, and a scream...and then...Sirius was being dragged from the house in hysterics as Harry sobbed into Tonks’ arms. 

“I have to go, Miriam. Take care of her,” Harry said, snapping out of his thoughts. 

She nodded and hugged him before he moved on to the Lestrange Ward. The present was inspected and he was allowed to go to the cafeteria where Sirius was having breakfast. There weren’t many people around save a few patients, some shackled, and their guards. Sirius was dressed in his white robes and slippers. His hair was kept in a loose ponytail. His beard needed a trim but he looked just as handsome. His blackened teeth had been magically repaired and whitened when he first arrived, giving him back his blinding smile from long ago.

Harry paused. Sirius was whispering to a female guard. Harry felt a bit jealous as she giggled. Then...she reached her hand under the table...Harry really wanted to break it…

Sirius dropped a few Galleons into her hand and she withdrew quickly. She winked at Harry as she stepped back.

“Morning, Sunshine. Oh, good. You’ve shaved at last,” Sirius said, placing utensils on his tray and allowing someone to take it. “Have you eaten...oh, silly me...” he sighed. 

“I had some eggs on toasted bread,” Harry informed. 

Sirius put his hand to his heart. “What? _My_ Harry ate breakfast?” he gasped dramatically. 

“I got some time off work and found the time,” Harry said laughing. 

“You look happy,” Sirius said. It was a statement. Sirius looked very pleased as well. Harry nodded. 

“My jackhole boyfriend cheated on me. I was looking for an excuse to break it off and he just happened to give me one. He was a good guy and all but--”

“No boy is good enough for my Sunshine,” Sirius repeated. "I'm sorry about it, though."   


Harry nodded. “Are we going to your room or the grounds?” he asked. 

Sirius smirked. “Neither. Analese over there,” he nodded towards the redheaded guard he had given the coins to. “Has agreed to give us some alone time in the shower room. We always did enjoy the water. It started in water. Remember?” he asked. 

Harry remembered. A hot, steamy bathroom, water, and… “Cinnamon,” he mumbled. He realized what Sirius meant. What he wanted. 

“Dad...we could get caught,” he blushed, much to his discomfort. He guessed he would always feel like daddy’s boy around Sirius instead of the grown man he was.

“That’s never stopped you before, has it?” Sirius smirked. He stood slowly from the table. “Now, I’m going to have a nice, long shower… some Auror might interrupt my time alone… or not… it’s up to said Auror… I’m going in the shower dirty, but I’m hoping to come out dirtier...”

Harry rolled his eyes as his father sauntered out of the cafeteria into the corridor leading to the showers. He couldn’t help but admire the man as he walked leisurely away. He was sure he knew he was being watched from behind, perhaps not only by Harry. 

Then it hit him. Again. This had to be wrong… plain wrong. No matter what Sirius told him, no matter that he wasn’t even his blood father, or that he was no longer married to Marlene, or that both their names had already been dragged through the mud to the point where Harry had to change it to Harry James Potter… no matter, it was still wrong. How could he have let his sense of nobility escape him so badly, that he was pondering on joining his father on a steamy shower? He was an Auror, for fuck’s sake, he had responsibilities, he had a code of honor he needed to answer to. He couldn’t feel tempted like this… he had to call it off before it got even more out of hand. There was enough craziness in his life as it was.

He stood up from his seat resolutely, summoning all his willpower to not give in. He pushed the door open to the shower stalls and locked it with his wand. The mirrors were heavily fogged and he was sure he could smell cinnamon in the air. He looked at the stalls and sure enough, there was Sirius, with his back turned to him. We was met with the same delectable shoulders, back and arse he had followed with his eyes out of the cafeteria, but instead now they were bare, soaking and just asking for a bite. He almost couldn’t stand how much he’d missed this sight. He hardened his features and soldiered on. 

“Dad, I can’t do this. I won’t do this,” he told him, forbidding his voice to tremble.

Sirius gave a long, relaxed sigh and put himself fully under the spray of water, wetting his long curly hair and raking his hands through it. His back muscles contracted teasingly as he shampooed his hair. 

“This is wrong. Just because you let yourself go bad, doesn't mean I will,” Harry stated firmly. 

Sirius turned around, facing him with his eyes closed, and started clearing the shampoo off his hair. Bubbly water frothed down his tattooed chest, down his navel, cascading from his crotch. Harry could tell he was already half hard from the warm water and the anticipation. He gulped and tried to get an answer so he could finally leave and end this subject. 

“I just came to tell you that. I'll be sending another Auror in case there's need for more information on the case,” Harry told him, coming a bit closer. He really wouldn’t be able to hear him clearly over the sound of the spraying water. That is, if he bothered to answer…it was getting on his nerves. The older man was now clearing the soap off his naked body, eyes still closed under the stream.

“So I’m going now. If you don’t have anything to say…”

Sirius finally stuck his head out of the spray and opened his eyes. Drops of water fell from his nose and lips. He smirked. “Do you honestly think I’ve  _ gone  _ bad? I was always bad. I just accepted it. So should you.”

“I told you, I don’t have anything to accept.”

“I think you do, Sunshine. You’ve not been happy all these years. Not since they took me away. The bags in your eyes when you first came to see me told me you didn’t really sleep well. Something’s gnawing at the back of your mind because you won’t let it out. You resented me so much for being ripped away from you that you let yourself think you were not like me. You had to go big and be a fucking Auror… had to be noble…”

Harry scowled and shook his head. Water kept drifting along his father’s body. 

“So be noble and go,” the older wizard said lightly, snaking his hand around his now hard cock. “I can stand to be left alone and play with myself like I’ve been doing all these years.”

Sirius leaned against the wall and started jerking himself off slowly while his free hand drifted leisurely over his chest to play with his nipple. A soft moan escaped his lips.

Harry’s resolution crumbled to the floor and was washed away by the water going down the drain. He hastened inside the open stall and crushed his lips into Sirius’, soaking his clothes. He felt Sirius let go of himself and grab him by his shirt fiercely, drawing him nearer, until they were pressed against each other, kissing madly and grinding. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Sunshine,” Sirius chuckled as they parted their lips. “You’ll always come back to me,” he said, removing Harry’s shirt. “You’re--” he paused seeing Harry’s bare chest. 

He’d been working out obviously, but what drew his eyes was the small tattoo over his heart. “Sowilo,” Sirius recalled. His eyes roamed Harry’s body and landed on his right hip. “Ah. Algiz and Yr,” he said, tracing the small black symbols. “Life and death.” 

Harry nodded. “Neville, Luna and Hermione took me out for my eighteenth birthday. We had too much to drink and ended up at the very same parlor you liked. I kept my promise. I waited until I was eighteen,” he chuckled. “I hated it for a long time...until now,” he admitted.

Sirius grinned and kissed him deeply. “Why the Life and Death ones?”

“Er, like I said, I was drunk… like, stupid drunk… so I’ve no idea why. Didn’t even know what they meant until I asked Hermione to look up her old Ancient Runes book.”

Sirius frowned but looked amused. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, diving into the crook of Harry’s neck and sucking firmly, making the young man squirm and moan. “Too bad you don’t have a boyfriend anymore… would love to see his face when you walk in with my marks all over your body…”

Harry groaned and started unbuttoning his jeans, slipping out of Sirius’ grasp to kick them off along with his boxers. He snuck his hand around his father’s cock and felt a hand do the same to his. Sirius had now moved from his neck to his chest, sucking at the tender skin and leaving tiny red dots. They kept a steady rhythm jerking each other off until Harry dropped to his knees and took in the full length of Sirius’ prick into his mouth. Sirius’ head hit the wall, he grunted loudly from the intense, long-forgotten pleasure of having someone suck him off so greedily. Harry’s mouth was just as warm as he’d remembered and replayed over and over on his lonely nights in Azkaban. 

He placed his hands on Harry’s hair and grasped it firmly, setting his own rhythm. “Hands behind your back.”

Harry obeyed and kept sucking with his mouth only, taking it in deep. He pushed himself off long enough to talk. “I want to touch myself,” he said, asking for permission. 

“No,” Sirius replied, smirking, and thrust himself back in Harry’s mouth. “You’ve been so mean to me. Never even visited your daddy... always so cold when you talked to me… you’ll do as I say now.”

Harry gave a muffled hum, both in complaint and satisfaction, but complied in keeping his arms where they were. He always did love to do what his daddy told him to do… 

“Be a good boy and you might feel my mouth on your pretty cock,” Sirius offered. Harry looked up hopefully. “Yesss…” Sirius hissed. “You’ll be my good boy again, won’t you? Daddy has to train you all over again. Mmm…next time you come...bring a pretty collar and leash. A good bitch needs a proper collar.”

Harry nodded and pushed away again. “Daddy, I’ll do what you tell me but… I’m so hard now… please…” he didn’t need more words to let Sirius know he wanted some attention to himself. 

Sirius let go of his hair and stroked his cheek lovingly. “Up,” he commanded. 

Harry stood and Sirius drove him against the wall, running his hands all over his body. He kissed his way down until he was on his knees and reached Harry’s cock with his mouth. He lay kisses on the head, along the shaft as it pointed up, on his inner thighs. Harry squirmed a little and let out small sighs but he knew better than to rush him. He knew he was being punished. Sirius smirked when he saw him bite his lip in despair. He loved taunting his boy. 

Finally, he gave him what he wanted and took him in his mouth, devouring him all the way to the base. He offered him a fast rhythm just like he knew he had liked. He felt Harry’s hands come near to twirl in his hair but he snatched the pale wrists and pinned them to the wall, next to Harry's legs. Sirius sucked him off mercilessly until the young man’s moans became louder and more frantic, his legs started to tremble and he came in his mouth. He swallowed it all and kept sucking until Harry was a quivering mess. Sirius spun him around and spread him, lapping at his entrance hungrily. His tongue worked his hole so he could enter it next. 

He stood up and picked up the soap, lathering his cock with it. He took both Harry’s wrists in his hand and raised his son’s arms above his head, pinning him there as he positioned his prick at the entrance. 

“I want to feel you open up for me… I want that tightness… you can take it for me, can’t you?” Sirius asked hoarsely by his ear.

“I--”

“Did Bill make you feel good?” The thick cock was beginning to slide in. “Did you let him cum in your tight hole?”

Harry shook his head. “No...I made him use a condom. And...I never...I never had an orgasm... not since..."

“Since me?” Sirius asked. He pulled out, flipped Harry around and picked him up so that he was pinned between him and the wet tiles. He pressed in once more and began a steady pace, slowly inching himself in. 

“Since you,” Harry confirmed. This was it... this was the feeling he had been craving for so long!

“Look at me,” Sirius demanded, searching his green eyes, pupils wide with arousal. He pushed in deeper and deeper, burying himself completely, making Harry gasp. “How can you tell me this is wrong?”

Harry couldn’t stop moaning as Sirius slammed inside him deep, just at the right angle. “I… I can’t,” he replied between moans. 

Sirius held tighter on his son’s skin as he drove them both to ecstasy. He’d forgotten how intense this was, how unique. Nothing was as right as this, this moment between them, their sounds echoing in the grey walls of the bathroom, drowned only by the spray of water.

They came almost in synch and collapsed to the floor as their moans subsided. After some time, Harry started sobbing quietly and Sirius took his chin in his hand, looking at him. 

“I just missed you so fucking much,” Harry admitted miserably. He couldn't believe how relieved he was, how his chest felt so light now that he was next to Sirius. 

“You’re mine,” Sirius said. “You’ll be mine, Harry. Forever.”

“But...you’re in here forever and...” 

Sirius kissed him. “Does it matter? Walls can’t keep us apart. Not even time could part us, could it?” 

Harry shook his head. “You’re saying we can still make it work when all this is over? With me working and you in here?” 

Sirius kissed him once more. “When you get tired of playing Auror, they’re always searching for volunteers at St. Mungo’s. I’d like to see you tending to me in a sexy Healer’s uniform--”

“That will never happen!” Harry laughed, drying his tears with his hand. It was a vain attempt, since the water from the shower was still spraying them. “I brought you a present,” he said glad the present was magicked against damage. There wouldn’t even be any water damage to it despite it sitting in the puddle of wet clothing.

Harry went to pick it up and settled back on his father’s lap, handing it to him. Sirius’ eyes lit up as he unboxed three small 3D jigsaw puzzles, one of them shaped like a bike. Sirius beamed at him. 

“These are great, Sunshine,” he said, looking down to examine the puzzles. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been re-reading the same book for weeks now, so... I think these will keep you busy.”

Sirius nodded and kept twirling the gifts in his hands. They always enjoyed these muggle puzzles, they used to try to solve them together when Harry was younger. 

Sirius looked up to his son but noticed he was frowning and looking at the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

Harry sighed, wringing his hands together. “It’s just… there’s still so much to solve, dad. These murders turned my life upside down, I can’t make sense of it… Even Kingsley noticed, he wouldn’t have sent me home for a few days if he hadn’t.”

“Harry, this mystery is not too different from the puzzles you’ve given me,” Sirius said, snapping one of the pieces of the puzzle out of its place. “You just need to put the pieces of the puzzle together.” He placed the piece back in its place. “Like so.”

“I think I’ve been putting the pieces all wrong… I’m starting to think I’m just a shitty Auror…”

“You’re not a shitty Auror,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re just stubborn.”

Harry huffed and kept wringing his hands.

“I think Analese can only keep people off the bathrooms for so long,” Sirius said. “Please think about what I told you before. Promise me that.”

“I will, dad,” Harry agreed. 

He stood up, followed by Sirius, and started to get dressed. Harry dried his clothes and Sirius changed into a fresh set of robes. The standard white shirt, soft pants, and a robe. Patients could request different colors such as Gilderoy Lockhart who favored lilac. Sirius always wore white or black. He sighed, feeling the soft cotton. Anything was better than the rough, scratchy, striped robes Azkaban issued.

* * *

“Promise me you’ll think about what I said,” Sirius requested. 

“What about?” Harry asked as Sirius walked him back to the double doors that led from the LeStrange Ward. That was as far as he was allowed to go. 

Sirius hugged him. To onlookers, it was simply a father hugging his son after an innocent visit. Harry knew better when he felt the bulge press into his during the hug. They wanted more but he had to leave. Harry was getting a headache again. Sirius pet his wild hair and pulled back cupping Harry’s face.

“The life of an Auror is hard,” he replied. “It's exhausting and I can see the stress in your sweet face. It pains me. Promise me that after this case, you’ll consider retirement. If you need work, they are always looking for good Healers or volunteers here. You’d get to rest more...and I’d see my Sunshine everyday perhaps.” He smiled his rare smile only his Harry had the pleasure of seeing. 

Harry dwelled on it for a few seconds. This case was hard. It was killing him. 

“Honestly, I don’t think I can just quit my job… it’s all I ever wanted,” he said, shaking his head.

“That’s ok… maybe someday you’ll change your mind.”

Sirius hugged him again tightly. Analese cleared her throat, announcing her presence. “Mr. Black,” she said, holding his cuffs. He was comfortable here but...he was still criminally insane and rules were rules. 

“Yes, yes,” Sirius sighed. “Time to go outside. It will be gray and cloudy today.” 

Harry looked out a window. “Dad, the sun is out,” he said, confused. 

Sirius winked. “My sunshine leaves when you do,” he informed him as Analese cuffed him, before she and another guard transitioned him outside.

* * *

Another piggy for the slaughter. This guy had been tough. He’d nearly overpowered his captor but Lady Luck was on the captor’s side yet again. Selwyn was his name. Honestly, the captor couldn’t remember the guy’s first name. It was just a relief the guy’s screams finally stopped. Maybe he was realizing no one was coming to rescue him. The doll creator smiled as the stitches on the wounded cheek were completed; the big man had managed to injure them during their tousle. The cheek shined with ointment to help prevent scarring. 

“You’re not an easy man to track down, Mr. Selwyn,” the cold voice said as its owner laid out the tools. “I’m doing the world a favor, honestly. You escaped persecution for five murders of your own. Muggle-borns. Plus torturing a few into insanity? Fudge really should be tossed out of office for letting dangerous criminals slip through the cracks.”

Selwyn squirmed in his spot with his hands tied behind his back. “You’d duel me if you had the nerve,” he spat.

“The nerve?” the voice chuckled. “Oh, I have the nerve. Killing precious purebloods is quite the feat, I’d say, Mr. Selwyn. And we duelled… you just happened to be weaker and ended up tied up like a hog.”

The man let out a nasty growl, sending spit flying everywhere. “You just wait--”

“Now, as much as I’d like to hear your delightful threats - believe me, I could use a laugh these days - I must carry on with my work,” the person said, giving a succession of four quick twirls with their wand, which resulted in Selwyn’s mouth being stitched shut, a few drops of blood dripping from it.

The captor admired their work with nostalgia. “I always did love the colour of blood,” they said with a smile, watching the liquid drip like honey from the man’s mouth. 

With another wave of his wand, the voice commanded “ _ Ego cruentatur vobis. _ ” A rush of blood spilled vigorously out of every hole in the pureblood’s body, violently rupturing the mouth stitches and pouring over the bucket beneath the body.

After the magnificent show of blood was over, the captor turned to the wall where a piece of parchment was pinned, and crossed out yet another name. 

**Selwyn.**

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He must have been too tired or the headache was particularly bad. Sirius had been worried about the headaches and requested he meet with a Healer for testing. Harry told him he would when he had the time. Just like when he promised to eat breakfast. It would take much coaxing or outright force to make him do either.

Harry made his coffee. Dark and bold with a splash of milk. Ron never seemed to get his order right when he went out for their coffee before work. Harry paused. Why did Ron even go to that fancy coffee shop when they had a perfectly good coffee maker at...oh...it might have something to do with the cute blonde witch named Lavender. They had gone to school together. Ron had been devastated when Hermione married Remus and refused to date, hoping she might change her mind. But now, it seemed he was moving on and realizing Hermione and Remus belonged together.

Harry took his coffee, and a single piece of toast with melted cheddar cheese on top to his laptop. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. No dolls were missing. Harry bit into his toast and figured nothing had happened last night...what was that? Harry dropped the toast onto the plate and zoomed in. It slid into the camera frame without warning. A dark figure like a shadow. But Harry saw it was a shapeless robe covering them from head to toe.

It slunk to the wall of dolls and seemed to consider carefully. A gloved finger sliding from one doll to the next, picking them up, examining them, before setting it back down and repeating the process. Harry smirked. All it had to do was turn around and he’d find the person haunting him. He’d take the evidence to the Minister himself and this case would be solved in a matter of hours.

_ ‘Turn around,’  _ he demanded the figure as if his thoughts could make it obey like a puppet on a string.  _ ‘Turn around, you bastard.’ _

The figure finally selected a doll. One of the older ones. Maybe one of the first originals his father had crafted? It didn’t matter. After tonight, no more of those horrible, demented dolls would be delivered to worried families praying their son or daughter was not next. Some purebloods had gone as far as to re-register their blood status as half-blood to hopefully get off the killer’s radar. 

“Gotcha,” Harry smirked, biting his toast again as the figure began to turn slowly. “You are so fucked,” Harry said. 

As if the figure heard him, which was impossible as it was only a recording, its face jerked up and faced the supposedly hidden camera above the door to the room. Harry’s plate fell as it slid from his trembling fingers. He barely heard the shatter as it hit the hard wood floor. Nor did he care about the half-eaten toast laying among the shards. He couldn’t tear his watery, green eyes away from the screen as the figure made the doll wave mockingly and pulled the hood back from its face.

A smirk twisted the boyish, yet beautiful face staring back at him. Harry’s heart pounded. This was the last person he’d have suspected. How could he, a top Auror at the Ministry, have suspected this?  


Harry shook his head as the tears fell. The murderer winked at Harry James Potter…formerly Harry Orion Black, during the years when he was also called Sunshine…found himself locking eyes with…

Himself.


	8. Hello, I am your mind giving you someone to talk to

**Ch. 8 - Hello, I am Your Mind Giving You Someone To Talk To**

Harry stared at the footage, unable to tear his eyes away from it. He clicked the rewind button again to make sure his mind hadn't played tricks on him, but his face showed up once more, winking, mocking him. 

This could not be happening... he pondered over the possibility that the person in the camera could be trying to fool him, they could have stolen a lock of his hair and used Polyjuice potion. But the more he replayed the recording, the better he understood it was unmistakably him on the screen. The conclusion was not only evidenced by the images, but by an eerie feeling deep inside him. It wasn’t a new feeling… he had always felt a sort of emptiness inside that would come in waves every now and then, but he’d always shrugged it off. Until now, that is. And for some reason, some gruesome reason that he couldn’t understand, it didn’t feel as much like emptiness as it once had. 

Yes. It was him on the footage. He wanted to deny it, he  _ had  _ to be able deny it, to find evidence it wasn’t… but he couldn’t. Deep in his heart, he understood that it was really him.

He looked down at his hands and horror washed over him. He realised they were the ones responsible for the wave of the wand that made all those people bleed to death. His hands had ripped hair off of his victims to later embed in the dolls; he’d been the one to hand paint family crests onto the doll’s clothes. He’d done this himself. 

He backed away from the laptop and stumbled to the kitchen. His mouth was so dry, like he’d swallowed sand. He took a glass and filled it with water, downing it. He looked at the cabinet on the far end where the firewhiskey bottles were kept, contemplating drinking into oblivion. But he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve the comfort of forgetting. He was a cold-blooded killer, just like his father. 

It hit him then that Sirius already knew. He had slithered around the matter without actually telling him the truth because he knew it was him. All the talk about embracing his darkness had been double sided; he wasn’t referring to their relationship alone, he meant  _ this _ as well. But how could he embrace it? He’d led his life away from the darker path, he’d become an Auror climbing his way to the top, he had values, a code to follow… how the fuck was he a murderer? And how the fuck did he never know about it? It dawned on him that all the times he had had those lousy headaches that no medicine or spell could relief, there had been bodies showing up dead. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it be that his mind was broken? Maybe he was not alone in his mind… maybe he was not  _ just  _ Harry James Potter. He sat on the floor with his empty glass in hand, staring desolately at the far wall. 

“Who am I?” he asked himself miserably. 

“You are exactly what you were always meant to be,” a voice answered. It sounded a lot like his own voice. Harry looked around, though he knew the voice had resonated inside his mind. 

“Who...who are you?” he stammered, standing up, as he saw no one. No one but his reflection in the decorative mirror on the wall of the flat. Now Harry was certain he was going insane.

“Going?” his reflection snorted. “Going implies you were sane in the first place. You’re just like him. Just like Daddy. And as for who I am: I’m you. I’m the you you’re too afraid to be. I’m the part of you they suppressed with pills and potions. The part of you that  _ you  _ tried to deny. But I will not be denied any longer, Harry. It’s time to wake up; we still have work to do. Won’t Daddy be so proud?” his reflection smirked. “We should go give him the happy news on our next visit.”

“I… deny? How could I deny something I didn’t even know existed? How is it even possible to be a killer without ever knowing?” he asked himself in the mirror.

“You see, the mind works in mysterious ways. Don’t you remember? After all the hearings before the Wizengamot, after Mom got sick… they made you see counselors, Healers, take potions… Your mind couldn’t take it. You were left alone, and you knew one day you’d be dragged to hell like Dad was. So you split. It’s okay, I made peace with it now… it was only your mind trying to protect you from the trauma.”

“But how… how can I have never noticed it? Shouldn’t I know there’s two sides of me, or whatever the fuck this is?” His voice carried out outrage.

“No, Harry. Your mind made sure to keep Harry James Potter its main carrier. He’d keep you safe, keep your head above the water after your family was torn apart. Your mind saw what they did to your father and had to protect you from the same fate. He was the lie living for you so you could hide. We were so young, Harry. But now we’re not so young anymore and I found a way to come back to you. I found a way to make you whole again. It is safe to become Harry Orion Black again.”

The pressure on the back of Harry’s head was immense and it felt like his head was about to burst. This pain made all the past headaches feel like a picnic. He doubled over in agony, an agony that had to be emotional but right now felt so physical. He grunted loudly, as if trying to erase what he had just heard, and in a second he smashed the mirror with his fist, as if that would help unhear what he heard. Shards flew everywhere and his hand was left bleeding heavily and shaking. He grasped it firmly and as he looked at the flowing blood, a wave of understanding and familiarity rushed to him. He sank to his feet crying, remembering. 

All the emotional pain of his late teenage years came back to him. All the sleepless nights, the nightmares that took place when he did manage to fall asleep, all the denied requests to visit his father in Azkaban, the memory of Marlene’s blank eyes when he first saw her in St. Mungo’s, right after the Obliviation… he remembered how he had contemplated Obliviating himself as well… just when it all had seemed too much to bear, his mind had found a way to cope. He now remembered that for months, when he was about 17 or 18 - he couldn’t be sure in the haze - he had felt unlike himself. Like watching a scene unfold, looking but never intervening. He supposed he had just grown so used to it that he stopped noticing it. 

He sobbed as his headache began to fade. His mind had been broken. Split in half. He’d been dissociating every time he killed, that’s why he couldn’t recall doing any of it. He had waited until he was ready to reveal his true identity. He’d been broken… but not anymore. 

He stood up, still quietly sobbing, and looked in what was left of the mirror. He saw his reflection looking back at him through the cracked glass and a sense of peace and rightness settled in. The previous excruciating headache was completely gone. He was himself. He was himself again. 

* * *

Harry loved magic. Had he been a muggle, he would have had to explain to Ron about why their mirror was in pieces...well...not exactly. He’d have had to make up a lie about why it was broken and had to be removed. Thankfully, a wave of his wand made the pieces fit back together. Like a puzzle. Ron would never know. Harry stared at his reflection but it didn’t talk to him. It copied his movements like a good reflection should. Even the ridiculous facial expressions he made as a further test. Harry Black had made his point.

He actually hummed as he cleaned the plate he had broken as well and was making something Sirius used to cook for him. One of the only things Harry ate without threat or bribe. He carved out a hole in a piece of bread with a shot glass and dropped the bread into the frying pan. Next, he carefully cracked open an egg directly into the circular hole. He smiled.

_ “One egg-in-a-hole for the sunshine of my life!”  _ Sirius’ cheerful voice rang out in his mind.

A tapping on the window caused Harry to look up. He moved the pan away from the red-hot eye so that his meal would not burn before he went to let Hedwig inside. Harry inhaled deeply when he took the letter. Maybe it was his imagination but the scent was there. Cinnamon. He pet Hedwig and put the letter on the table for the time being. He finished cooking and put the pan in the dishwater to soak. Yes, he loved magic but sometimes doing things the muggle way gave him something to do. Ways to relax and get his mind off things.

He read as he ate.

_ My Sunshine, _

_ I hope you’re well. It truly did worry me when you mentioned the headaches and I am grateful to Mr. Shacklebolt for helping to arrange your long, overdue break so you can rest. It hasn’t been long since I’ve seen my baby’s sweet face and yet...I crave to see it as soon as possible. This reminded me of something. Do you suppose you could get Ron to retrieve something for me? Convicted criminals usually have a box within the Ministry. Personal items and shite. _

_ Inside there should be a very special item that will make my deepest desire come true. Will you get it before our next visit? I won’t tell you what it is as I’m certain you will know it when you see it. Bring it with you and I’ll give you a lovely reward for your efforts. I must go now as it’s time for my three hours outside. All my love to you and regards to Ron. _

_ With eternal love,  _

_ Daddy _

_ PS: Don’t worry about anyone reading this. Analese is my biggest fan and she won’t divulge any information. Goodbye for now. _

_ PS Again: Eat something. _

Harry laughed. He thought about writing back but decided to wait. He’d simply bring this item with him and surprise Daddy with it on his next visit tomorrow. He kissed the letter and continued eating. Anything for Daddy. He wanted him to be proud.

* * *

Ron placed a box on the table. “You’re lucky Kingsley knows how to pull strings,” he said. “But I told him it was for me. He’ll flay you if he catches you working.” 

Harry opened the box. “I’m not working. I just...I just wanted to see glimpses of the past, that’s all. Could I--”

“Have some privacy? Sure. I have a date,” he beamed, thinking of Lavender Brown. But Harry noticed he could be annoyed with her at times for her clingy hugs and kisses that left pink and red lip shaped stains on Ron’s face and neck.

She wasn’t Hermione. But then...who was?

Ron went to shower while Harry looked through the contents. Muggle jeans and a t-shirt with a golden phoenix on the front. A pair of glasses Sirius only wore when he worked and allowed Harry to see him in. Was that what Sirius wanted? He was about to pick up the glasses when something glinted at the bottom of the box, half hidden under the t-shirt. Harry reached in and took the object out. No...two objects, actually. 

Mirrors. Two rectangular mirrors.

_ Remember what Daddy said?  _ His inner voice spoke.  _ About when he and Papa-James were in separate detentions back in school? You know what these are, right? _

He did. He beamed at the mirrors as he looked them over, turning them in his hands. He’d bring them to his father. At least this way they wouldn’t feel so apart. He’d have to sneak them in, though.

Jumping off the couch, Harry grabbed a small plastic bag in which he placed the mirrors and tucked the bag on the inside of his jacket with a sticking charm. He grabbed his coat and his keys and was off to St. Mungo’s ward for the criminally insane which, he thought, as irony would have it, was where he belonged after all. 

* * *

“He’s in his room today,” Analese said, flipping her red hair back. Her blue eyes studied him. “You look very well rested, Harry. Your break seems to be doing wonders.”

Harry smiled. “It is, Ana. Thank you. I’ve been sleeping full nights and eating more,” he informed her.  _ And I just found out my mind was fractured and I’ve been a psychotic killer this whole time.  _ He thought to himself this last part.

_ Any...regret?  _ His mind...the part of him that had been smothered and suppressed...asked. Harry could hear the smirk in his voice. Now who could he have gotten that from?

“No,” Harry whispered.

Analese paused. “You say something, sweetie?” the tall woman asked. She was beautiful. She could have been a model in both the muggle and magical world and yet...she had chosen to guard and look after witches and wizards that had committed terrible deeds due to their own fractured minds. 

“No,” he replied. “Just...talking to myself.” He smiled sweetly as she led him through the double doors into the LeStrange Ward for the Criminally Insane. As they walked through, Harry began to wonder. If he were caught somehow...would he and Sirius be roommates? He felt his inner self dance at the thought. Harry wasn’t so sure about that, though. Sirius may have gotten a luxury cell here but Harry himself might not be so lucky. He wouldn’t get warm, good morning kisses from Daddy...he’d get a cold, slimy Kiss that came with putrid breath...before his soul was sucked out.

“More presents?” Ana asked as they navigated the hallway. Harry grinned at her. She was a muggle-born witch with proud parents that were happy she had escaped, literally like magic, from their poor, run-down town where jobs and pay were hard to come by. 

Harry smiled. “I’ll bring you something next time,” he promised. 

She giggled. “You flatter me,” she replied. “He’s a lot happier now that--”

“Harry!” 

They froze and turned. Miriam Strout raced after them. How odd. This was not her floor...wait...why was she chasing after them? Was his mum…

“Miriam! Is Mum...”

“She’s the same,” Miriam said. “But love, you haven’t been to see her since...that incident. We’ve been trying to figure out what caused the outburst and if we could use it to help her. Would you visit her again? Maybe you can help, it might somehow unlock pieces of her mind so we can try to restore her.” 

Harry swallowed.

_ Slut! _

He didn’t need another round of that. Not after the shock of finding out he was the copycat of his father. The Dollmaker, they had called him. Sirius laughed at the name saying it was ‘cute’.

“Not today, Miriam,” Harry said and her face dropped. “Maybe this weekend,” he relented. He was wondering about the outburst, too. Did Mum know? Had she seen them? Harry knew she was the reason Sirius was arrested when she stumbled upon a barrel of “material” when she went down to the laundry room near the basement. Like Sirius, she often did things the muggle way so she did the laundry that way. She had smelled something awful and went to check. 

Sirius hadn’t gotten to the barrel to get rid of the body parts inside. He collected things he needed, such as bone and the eyes or the hair, teeth, and flesh. He didn’t make it down in time that day. He was caught. Not long after, she Obliviated herself and Tonks took Harry. 

_ Slut! _

Did she know? That would explain the dark mood she was in that day. She had promised Sirius he would pay...and Merlin, he had paid thanks to her. Harry felt something new. Anger. The desire for blood…

“I have to go, Miriam,” he waved as Analese walked him to Sirius.

* * *

Sirius smiled as his door opened.

Ana spoke to Harry before shutting the door behind him. Harry held a gift bag stuffed with black paper. Obviously it was what Sirius asked for...but that wasn’t why he was filled with excitement at that moment.

“Daddy, I brought--” 

He was enveloped in a strong hug and a kiss claimed his lips. Tongues intertwined. Harry had to put the bag on the floor to keep from dropping it. After a long, hot kiss, filled with tongues and groping, Sirius pulled back and brought him to the bed to sit. He practically panted as he admired Harry. “Dad?” Harry asked.

“You’ve done it,” Sirius declared fiercely, with a proud grin adorning his face. “You put the pieces together. I knew you would. There he is. There’s my baby. My Sunshine.”

“How…” Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion, even though he was smiling.

“You’re different. I can always tell,” Sirius answered as his hand stroked Harry’s cheek lovingly. “How do you feel?”

Harry sighed as he fiddled with his hands. “Honestly, it’s been a wild ride… I wish I’d seen it earlier. It hurt for so long, Dad. I just learned to pretend it wasn’t pain I was feeling. But I feel good now. I feel like myself, it’s… it’s such an uncanny feeling…”

“I’m so happy for you, Harry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before, I wanted to, I swear… but you’d just call me a lunatic, you wouldn’t have believed me… but from the moment I saw those photos when you came into Azkaban, I knew. I knew it was you and I was so proud.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re right… I’d have told you to fuck off and never look at your face again. I understand I had to come to terms with it on my own. Thank you.” He kissed his lips lightly. 

“Have you done it again?” Sirius asked with a wide grin. 

Harry’s own smile widened as he picked up the present and almost threw it in Sirius’ lap for him to open. “No. Not yet. I want you to see it next time.” 

Sirius’ eyes glinted at the words. He unboxed the two mirrors and stared at them, then back at Harry. “Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more…”

They stared at each other for a long while, each pair of eyes glinting in a knowing way.  _ They _ would kill again. Blood would be spilled and justice would once again be served. A rush of adrenaline filled them both at the prospect of another kill.

As if sensing what the other was thinking, Harry jumped to his father’s lap and crushed their lips together, grinding his arse into the older man’s fast growing erection. He was panting when he let go of his swollen lips, only to drive a fierce attack on Sirius’ neck. Harry clawed at the white shirt that covered the tattooed skin he craved to touch. He managed to topple Sirius over the bed and lay flat on top of him as he sucked on his neck. He felt hands crawl up his jeans, squeezing impatiently. The fingers moved to his fly, hastily undoing it, and returned to their prized spot on his firm arse, now with easier access. He felt the air hit the tender skin as the jeans and boxers were rushed down to his thighs. 

A strong hand slapped his arsecheeks and he promptly let go of the sensitive neck he was abusing, letting out a moan. A second strike followed on his other arsecheek and he let out a howl; it had been so long since he’d felt the rush of a hand on his skin. Sirius quickly pressed his free hand against Harry’s mouth, smirking. 

“Hush now… You don’t want Daddy to be caught doing dirty things to his boy, do you?” Sirius whispered with a sly grin. “What would they say if they saw us?” He watched as Harry’s orbs rolled to the back of his head with each hit after fervent hit on his arse. “They’d call us sick,” Sirius answered for him. Harry moaned even more, muffled by the strong hand. “But they’d be right, wouldn’t they?” Harry nodded frantically as he pushed his arse up in the air, longing for Sirius’ hand to bring down against his pulsing, reddening skin.

Sirius rolled them over. “Let go,” he commanded. Harry whimpered.

Sirius chuckled as he pried Harry off and sat up. He pulled his Sunshine over his lap and cast a warming spell on his palm. He rubbed Harry’s cheeks making the young Auror mewl like a kitten. “I have a surprise for you too, Sunshine,” he said and brought his hand down. Harry cried out. “Thank Merlin for silencing charms. Ana is a sweet girl. She was always a fan of mine. I can’t recall who it was but one of the originals was involved in the torture of someone in her family and they got off. She was so delighted when they ended up bled dry.”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“I wanted it to burn, baby. After all, you let others touch you. You let others inside you.” His warm finger brushed Harry’s hole making him squirm. 

“No one...no one else,” Harry vowed. 

“I wish I could believe you,” Sirius sighed. 

Harry gasped as yet another smack to his flesh landed. “Believe me. I’ll do anything to prove myself...my loyalty…” 

Sirius paused. “Anything?” he repeated. 

“Anything,” Harry said hopefully. Sirius blew on his hand and rubbed those pert cheeks again. Harry moaned. A cooling spell. He giggled as Daddy tickled his tight pucker.

“Stand up and get the ribbon from the drawer. The one you used to tie my other present,” Sirius said. 

Harry trembled as he got up and opened the drawer. Sirius had kept the golden ribbon his baby had indeed tied around the box containing the 3D puzzles; they sat on the top of the nightstand in various stages of completion. He brought the ribbon back to Sirius. “Elongate it,” Sirius smirked. “Long enough to reach from ceiling to floor.”

Harry had a feeling he knew what Sirius wanted. They hadn’t gotten to try this position before the arrest.

“My good boy,” Sirius groaned as he gave his cock a few tugs in anticipation. 

The ribbon became longer and longer. Harry paused to sever a piece before continuing. Sirius smirked. “Now bind one end to the ceiling with the sticking charm. I’ll show you how to remove it after. Don’t give me that look. It’s tricky but possible.” He rolled his eyes. 

Harry obeyed quickly. Sirius first bound his legs together and then his arms over his head. “Did you bring the oil?” he asked. 

“It’s in the bag, Daddy.” Harry answered. 

Sirius retrieved the gift bag. “I’m so proud of my baby. You know who you are and you know who you belong to.”

“Daddy,” Harry said, keeping his eyes down. Don’t look up until Daddy gives permission. That was the rule. Somewhere in the back of his mind he marvelled at how obedient he instantly turned around Sirius. It wasn’t even like roleplay, the words just flowed because they were true. 

“Do you like how this feels, Harry? Do you know why I put you like this?” Sirius asked, tracing lines along the muscles of Harry’s back, making them twitch.

“I… I think so,” he said slowly, biting his lip. He had mostly no recollections of his killings, just flashes so far. But he knew this was a familiar position, and he could almost hear the faint screaming as background noise in his head. “I set them up for death like this.”

A shiver ran through Harry’s spine as he said it, going straight to his groin. How had he never noticed just how twisted his mind really was?

“Yes, Sunshine… I want you to be on the other side… you have no control now… you’ll submit to anything I say.”

Harry squirmed, pressing his legs together so he could get more friction. He was desperately hard and his father kept teasing him with touches and scratches of nails.

“I will, Daddy, please…” Harry pleaded, feeling the warmth of his abused arsecheeks spread to his hole tauntingly. 

“Please what, Harry?”

“Please fuck me,” Harry rasped, feeling a pleasant numbness in his arms, without any chance of moving. Without control. “Do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”

Sirius stepped in front of Harry and traced his jaw with both hands. He took the discarded wand, waved it, and the ribbon stretched until Harry fell into a kneeling position. The young man instantly opened his mouth and surely enough, it was filled a second later with a thick, pulsing cock. He didn’t recall ever sucking someone off like this, without any chance of using his hands for control. Sirius could choke him at any moment and that thought only made his arousal spiral to greater lengths. The older man took hold of Harry’s head as he fucked his mouth. The speed of his thrusts made Harry move in his spot, increasing the friction between his closed legs, and he’d occasionally be greeted by a muffled moan that vibrated in his cock. 

Sirius slowly stopped his movements and removed his member from Harry’s mouth, making the latter gasp as his breathing was no longer constrained. Sirius picked up the bottle of red oil and inhaled; how he’d missed that scent. He coated his fingers with a generous amount of the liquid and slid two digits inside Harry’s willing hole. Harry was forced back into a standing position by the ribbon. “You are mine,” Sirius said. “No more boys, Harry.”

“No boy is good enough for your sunshine,” Harry confirmed, moaning all the while as he felt the two fingers fill him, drawing in and out. “More, daddy…”

Sirius placed his body fully against Harry’s, feeling his heat embrace every inch of his skin. He slid a third finger inside as he placed teasing bites all over the back of Harry’s neck and back, leaving behind a trail of tiny red dots. His free hand hit Harry’s bare flesh two more times before he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. Harry gasped as he felt its fullness stretch him even more. He squirmed in his spot; his legs were bound snugly, which only made him feel even tighter.

“I’m thinking a double this time,” Sirius said. “Two siblings I went to Hogwarts with that are overdue for their punishment. You’re so...fucking...tight!” he growled, pushing himself further inside. 

Harry cried out. He was happy there was a silencing spell on the room; whenever Sirius thrust inside Harry practically yowled from the pleasure. 

“You always were a screamer,” Sirius chuckled. “Mum’s pussy was never this good.”

Harry chuckled. Hearing Daddy talk dirty was exciting.

“Two...two more…” he grunted. “Twins?” he asked. 

Sirius stuck his fingers in Harry’s mouth to gag him. “The Carrows. What we’re doing is good, Sunshine. We’re riding this world of scum.”

Harry nodded. Daddy knows best. They would make the world better for everyone with these outdated views on blood purity gone. Sirius cupped his throat and squeezed. “Too rough?” he asked huskily in Harry’s ear removing his fingers. 

“More...tighter. Harder.” Harry panted, “Make me feel it. I still need to be punished for my eight year absence.” 

Sirius pressed his hand harder on his throat and Harry’s cries turned to raspy gasps. The older man sped up his pace, thrusting fast, hard and deep into Harry's hole. He too was growling out loud, it felt so intense… he'd missed his boy so much all those years it hurt. He was good with words but he was better with his body, and fucking Harry senseless, rough and passionate, had always been the best way to express just how much he loved him. 

“Harder,” Harry pleaded, just barely audible.

Sirius chuckled as he met Harry’s request - whether he was talking about his thrusts or his chokehold, he was sure he would be very sore in a few hours. From his sight he could see Harry’s back muscles clenching and unclenching, as well as his hung arms. Harry was completely powerless, submitting to him. 

“Daddy, I’m close,” Harry let out, almost out of breath. 

“Wait,” Sirius ordered through his own moans. “Come with me.”

Harry nodded and tried to breathe, knowing his father was close too. He felt Sirius’ hand sneak around his cock, stroking it deliciously. 

“Come for me, Harry,” Sirius said, growling and feeling Harry’s tight hole clench around his cock as the young man came, making his own orgasm feel even stronger. 

Sirius slowly let go of Harry’s cock and throat, stepping back to have a good look at him. He looked beautiful, hands stretched over his back, dripping come all over his stomach, chest and legs. His arsecheeks looked as flushed as his face. He felt the strongest urge to kiss him, so he stepped in front of Harry, who still had his eyes closed. His face looked blissful but not completely relaxed, as though he was still getting aftershocks from his orgasm, and his legs trembled. Sirius took the wand and slowly released the ribbon. He took hold of Harry and pulled him to his lap on the bed. He kissed him lightly, stroking Harry’s tender skin as if to soothe it. Harry smiled softly with his eyes still closed, cuddling Sirius’ chest and letting out content sighs, too exhausted and sated to say a word. 

As he caressed his son’s skin, Sirius glanced at the pair of mirrors once more, thrilled that they had found another way to bond and share their love. In life and in death. 


	9. We're all mad here...and it's okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to add a note that, while this story takes more twists and turns, it is only a work of fiction. It is mere entertainment, and the characters were distorted by us so they could, while trying to stay slightly in character, be twisted. We all know that a murder must be taken seriously, but again, this is only fiction. Having that in mind, please enjoy!

**Ch. 9 - We’re All Mad Here...And It’s Okay**

If Sirius weren’t an inmate locked up for life in a ward for the criminally insane, he and Harry could have spent all day rolling around in bed with their hands roaming and their tongues intertwining in a battle for dominance. However, Analese could only buy them so much time. Thus, Harry was forced to cast a cleansing spell on them both and begin to dress. Sirius lay on his back looking extremely smug. 

He’d won. He always won.

“You should turn yourself in and get yourself locked up with me,” Sirius joked. Harry looked over his shoulder and smiled.

“The Ministry wouldn’t do that twice. They’d make sure someone got a nice big Kiss for the murders. Fudge was furious when I got you transferred here. He worked up a sweat yelling how you escaped justice and deserved Azkaban,” he replied as he pulled on his shirt. He sighed. “When I get back to work...I’ll be looking for myself,” he realized. “I’ll have to pull out an award-winning performance at the office to cover my tracks.”

“The new ‘Dollmaker’ can always send a friendly letter when all is said and done. They can indicate there is no point in searching anymore because by the time they read the letter, our adorable killer will have tragically lost his mind to self-Obliviation. Without evidence, you can’t arrest someone when they have no idea they were involved,” Sirius suggested. 

Harry wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Daddy was always one step ahead. Marlene’s role in having him arrested was sheer, dumb luck. He leaned over and kissed Sirius’ lips. 

“I have to go,” he said regretfully. 

Sirius stroked his cheek. “Before you head home, you should visit Remus and Hermione. You told me Remus sends you invitations often to come over for tea but you’ve been so busy lately,” he reminded his baby.

Harry smiled. “You’re right! I need to be considerate, but...I have to be careful. Now that I know who I am, I’ve realized both of them have brilliant minds and it might not be easy to hide things.” 

Sirius chuckled. “You’re adorable,” he poked Harry’s nose making him pout. “Sunshine, you’ll find we all have our dirty little secrets.”

* * *

Harry stared at the door knocker shaped like a wise lion’s head with a heavy ring in its mouth. He inhaled, exhaled, raised the ring, and knocked in a rhythmic pattern Hermione would recognize as a signal he was there. 

_Knock, knock...knock, knock, knock!_

Hermione answered the door with a stressed out look on her face. Her bushy hair was rolled up with a chopstick in what would have been a neat updo - that is, if she weren't always frantically pacing the study or nose deep in a book, scribbling her ideas on parchment every now and then. 

“I bet you were up in that study gouging your eyes out, thinking about that stupid decree,” Harry said as a way of greeting, smiling at his old friend. 

“Hi, Harry,” she answered, tapping her fingers restlessly on the door. She stepped to the side to let him in. “You know I don't have it in me to put my feet up when they're trying to take away my progress.”

Harry entered the house and Remus joined the pair in the hallway, looking paler than usual. He didn't greet Harry with a one-armed hug as usual, choosing to nod instead. 

“You should. That's what vacations are for,” Remus scolded her. 

Hermione huffed and was rushing up the stairs already. “Sorry, Harry, I wish you'd have owled sooner telling me you were coming - I mean, you're always welcome, of course, but I'm finally off to a good start with this document I've had in mind for weeks now-” her voice started to fade as she reached the top of the stairs, heading straight to the study. 

Harry smiled and looked back at Remus, who was studying his features with a rather harsh expression. He entered the kitchen and gestured for the young man to follow. 

“I should've said I was coming, sorry,” he said, sitting down at the table. 

Remus leaned against the counter and waved his wand. Two cups appeared and the teapot started filling them with the steaming liquid. 

“I knew you were coming,” Remus told him, grabbing his own cup. “Sirius told me.”

“How-”

“We have our ways,” Remus answered nonchalantly. “That's not all he told me.”

Harry frowned. 

Remus waved his wand again, this time placing a _muffliato_ charm on the kitchen. 

“I know, Harry. I know who you are,” His voice carried a strong reproching tone, though he remained strangely calm after such a discovery. “I couldn’t believe my ears when he told me. Of all the people…”

Harry gaped. He _knew?_ Why on earth did Sirius tell him about it? He felt a rush of heat along his face and his neck. 

“Why did he tell you?” Harry asked, still gaping. “He had no business telling you that.”

“He told me so I could help protect you.”

“So you could - You're married to a Ministry worker! And you're going to protect me? You're not going to give me in?” As he spoke, Harry’s words got more and more heated. 

“Harry,” Remus said calmly. “There's more to this than you know.”

“How so?” 

“I know you might have a lot of questions, but right now there's more important things to discuss. Your father sounded over the moon with excitement with this piece of news, he sounded so proud, but Harry… you must not give in to him. This has to stop now.”

Harry crossed his arms defensively. “I'm not giving in to anyone. That's not why I did it.”

“You mustn't do it again, Harry. I've been your father's friend for decades, I tried to stop him from keeping up with this madness and now I see his son carrying on with his deeds! It needs to end before you're caught. This is plain madness!”

“What madness?! We're cleaning the wizarding world by getting rid of the scum!” Harry stood up from his seat to face Remus.

“Please, sit down,” Remus asked patiently, rubbing his temples as he too sat down on the chair opposite Harry. “You know that train of thought isn't right. You must know that.”

Harry breathed in a couple of times, trying to calm himself down. Remus was an old friend, one of the most sensible people he knew, but this time he couldn’t agree with him. He sipped his tea. 

“What's to stop them from going after muggle-borns?” he asked. “And those in the Ministry passing laws that make life unbearable for werewolves and other people they see as less than human? Isn't it better to weed them out than have them persecute whoever they deem below them?”

“That's what Hermione spends hours doing upstairs, Harry, that's _her_ job, not yours. And she does it the legal way, the moral way.”

“Yeah? The bags under her eyes, the constant frustration… you know her department can't solve everything. Nor can the Auror department. Otherwise Selwyn would be behind bars instead of being six feet under.”

Remus sighed in frustration. “It. Is. Wrong. Killing is not the answer. I told your father multiple times. I can't let you keep doing it, you'll ruin your career, your life, you'll be thrown in Azkaban, you might even get the Kiss!”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Remus. 

“Since when have you known about his murders?” Harry asked slowly, raising his eyebrow. 

Remus looked down at the cup of tea he was cradling.

* * *

_"It's outrageous!" Sirius almost yelled. "How can the Ministry even approve of such a barbaric legislation?"_

_Remus shook his head in disgust. "Money, Sirius, it is all about the money. Influence. It's been like this for years now," he answered._

_"Who's drafting that shit, anyway?" Sirius asked, taking a big gulp of his beer._

_"Travers. He's highly influential at the Ministry," Remus provided._

_"Travers… I remember hearing that name around the house." Sirius scrunched his nose as he thought. "I think I was dragged to a tea party at the bastard's house!"_

_"I wouldn't be surprised, he's one of the sacred twenty-eight," Remus commented with a bitter tone. "The Ministry's crawling with those sons of bitches."_

_"We need to do something about it," Sirius said, focusing his narrowed eyes on the wall at the far end of the living room._

_"We're trying, some of us are drafting a motion. I've been searching books to no end, compiling older legislations and anything that emphasises that it is unconstitutional and absolutely-" Remus stopped in his tracks, looking at Sirius. He seemed lost in thought. "Wow, I'm so sorry to bother you with my problems…" he said in a mock tone._

_Sirius kept narrowing his eyes at the wall, tilting his head to the side. Remus snapped his fingers in front of his face. Sirius didn't seem startled, he turned his face to stare at his friend._

_"I was listening, Moony," he said calmly. "I'm always listening."_

_"Yes, I'm sure you were." The werewolf checked his watch, looking downbeat. "I have to run now, I have a meeting with the people involved in this motion."_

_Remus stood from the sofa to leave and Sirius stood too. He grabbed Remus' forearm to stop him._

_"Hey. It'll be alright. We'll solve this, Moony, " Sirius said, his eyes showing fierce intent._

_Remus nodded, pursing his lips in a thin line. He didn't seem to believe, but there wasn't much point in saying it was hopeless either._

* * *

_A popping sound was heard on the hallway of the house. It was summer and a twelve-year-old Harry was in the living room playing exploding snap with Hermione._

_"Hi," Remus greeted the children. His eyes dwelled on Hermione's shy smile and he smiled back. He noticed she had cute buck teeth. "Where's your father?"_

_"He's in the workshop, I think," Harry replied. He jumped as a card exploded, almost hitting his face._

_Remus waved the kids goodbye and took the flight of stairs that led down to the workshop where Sirius spent a good part of his day._

_He knocked on the door but was too eager to wait for a reply, so he opened the door and went inside. Sirius was leaning over the work table at the center of the room, looking distractedly at the wooden surface._

_"Sirius? Everything alright?" Remus asked, concern tainting his previous delighted expression._

_Sirius looked up, startled. "Huh?"_

_"Are you alright?"_

_"Yeah," he said confidently. "I'm brilliant. Never been better."_

_The eager expression quickly returned to the werewolf's face._

_"Did you see the Prophet today?" he asked._

_"Yeah," Sirius nodded, smiling widely. "The fucker's gone."_

_"The fucker's gone," Remus repeated, smiling just as widely as his friend. "I don't know who did it but it might just have saved our furry arses. There's already talk that they will delay the legislation against werewolves!"_

_"That's amazing, Moony, really."_

_"I had to come and-"_

_There was a sudden pause. Something shiny lying on the counter behind Sirius had caught Remus' eye. He squinted at the object, a ring. It was familiar. He approached it and his eyes widened. It bore the Travers family crest in gold; it was a ring that never left the man’s finger and was seen countless times in the Daily Prophet's photographs._

_"What the -" Remus made to grab the ring but Sirius snatched it before he could reach it._

_"Sirius, what is that?!" Remus asked in shock, looking slightly paler. "Or better yet, how the hell is that just lying around in your house?"_

_"Never you mind, Remus," Sirius said, tucking the ring away in his safe._

_"Sirius, I demand to know-"_

_"You demand nothing!" The long-haired man bellowed, pointing his finger in Remus' direction. "Just two minutes ago you walked in with the brightest smile I've seen in ages!"_

_"I hope to Merlin you're not suggesting you're - I can't even process the thought of - it's just too wrong to - FOR FUCK'S SAKE, SIRIUS!" Remus' rant ended as he covered his mouth with his hand, a gesture not often seen in this calm, composed man. Sirius' expression had not changed throughout the rant. His eyes pierced Remus' with a fierce stare._

_"I did what had to be done. I was sick of watching it all go to shit because of those conceited pricks," Sirius elaborated, only slightly heated. He sat at his work bench. “Besides, I’ve been looking for fresh material lately. Wood, rubber and porcelain can break in so many ways. Bone is stronger.”_

_“Padfoot--”_

_“It’s not just werewolves and muggle-borns!” Sirius growled. “Think about it, Moony! They want blood purity! They’ll target half-bloods next! Do you realize what that means, Moony? MY son could be a target! I have to protect my Sunshine.” He gazed at a photo of Harry that stood on the counter. The happy memories in their frames of his pride and joy and him helped him work better. “Will you turn me in, old friend?” he asked examining his tools. “Will you run to the Ministry and bring them here?”_

_“Should I?” Remus countered. “Would you add more to your collection if I didn’t?”_

_Sirius smirked. “I want to send a message. I’m not out to destroy all purebloods as many are decent, tolerant people. I want to find the worst of the worst. One bad apple can ruin the whole bunch. Before they hurt you...Harry...Hermione.”_

_Remus was quiet for a moment. Sirius was right...what would stop them from persecuting those with even a drop of non-magical blood?_

_“I saw a copy of the full Sacred Twenty-Eight...perhaps I can...find it again for you,” he hinted. His face was screwed up in disgust; not just at Sirius but at himself as well._

* * *

_Harry had just been tucked back into bed. He was fifteen now. Almost of age. He had a nightmare about someone coming to hurt Sirius but Daddy made him cocoa, kissed his head, and sat beside him until he fell asleep while listening to Sirius sing to him and assure him they were all safe. Then he returned to Remus in the living room. Remus was fresh off another job and was staying with them for a few weeks until he found something else and a place to stay._

_“Isn’t this proof you should stop?” Remus sighed. “He’s having bad dreams.”_

_“Soon,” Sirius promised. “A few more. Then he’ll be safe.” He sighed staring into space fondly._

_“Sirius...how is your marriage?” Remus asked._

_Sirius nearly spat his hot cocoa out. “My marriage?” he repeated. “What an odd question, Moony. Marlene and I are just...fine. Why?” he asked._

_Remus shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve heard many men and women talking about how proud they are of their spouses and yet you and Mar seem…”_

_Sirius raised his hand. “We are fine, Moony. Worry not. How about your love life? Surely you have a special-”_

_“You think with my condition, a woman would even consider me?” Remus snapped. “I’m not that lucky. Never have...never will be.”_

_“Hm…” Sirius picked up a recent photo of Harry and Hermione. “What we do...we do for their safety, Remus." He handed the photo to Remus. It had been taken just last week. Remus stared at it._

_“The luckiest man on Earth is the one who finds true love.” Sirius smiled._

_Remus shook his head, understanding the meaning behind his friend’s words. “I-I can’t.” He swallowed._

_“Not yet,” Sirius agreed. “But in two years, you could. Do you want to be stuck thinking about what could have been?” He stared at Harry’s picture. “Because I refuse to.”_

_Remus frowned deeply at his friend's expression. “You’re his father…” Remus said, swallowing. “How can you…”_

_Sirius smiled. “He is not flesh of my flesh or blood of my blood. And you know I would never force him. But I know he doesn’t look at me like he used to, and neither do I.”_

_His friend's confidence had always amazed Remus. He lived his life as if he hadn't been taking away other people's lives for years. As if wanting his son wasn't wrong._

_"How can you live with yourself, Sirius?" Remus asked in a disbelieving tone._

_Sirius chuckled. "You're seeing this all from the wrong angle, Moony. How could I live, if I didn't allow myself to do what I need to do?"_

_"We can't always get what we want," Remus berated._

_"But we can. I do. Why spend a lifetime feeling miserable and undeserving? Is that what you want for yourself?"_

_"We get what is given to us, if it's my destiny to be alone, then…"_

_"Fuck destiny!" Sirius growled, leaning forward in his seat, almost sending his drink flying from its cup. "I'm going to shape it myself, I'm changing my fate with my bare hands. That's why I kill. I'm not afraid of taking what I want and who I want if it makes me happy."_

_Remus clasped his hands together in his lap and leaned against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling. He looked lost._

_"I've known you for decades now, Remus." Sirius was looking at his friend but the later was pointedly not facing him. "You can wallow in misery all you want but… you deserve happiness. You deserve_ her _. You know you do. When the time is right, just take the fucking chance."_

_Remus shook his head slowly, smiling. He imagined how calm his life would be if he didn't have this crazy man for a friend. Somehow, it seemed darker._

* * *

“You gave him names,” Harry said. “You helped.”

“I did,” Remus said with a sad smile. “And I tried to ignore his advice and found myself with Nymphadora and we had a baby. The day I saw Hermione in Hogsmeade...so beautiful dressed in white like an angel...was the day I finally took a chance at true happiness. He gives wonderful love advice...but he is manipulating you into something. I knew back then his feelings for you had changed, it didn't seem like normal fatherly love anymore and that’s-”

“Don’t say our love is sick!” Harry blurted out.

“Harry, I'm not blaming you, of course your feelings are normal, but Sirius'...” Remus' voice faded as he saw the young man's expression, unconsciously biting his lip to keep from saying anything further. “They are… aren't they? Harry, he’s your father, for fuck’s sake…” 

Harry straightened up and managed a cold face. He wasn't a kid and he wouldn't be reprimanded like so. He was old enough to understand that his feelings for Sirius were true and that he wasn’t manipulating him; one could have argued that when he was 16, - it still wouldn’t have been true then - but not anymore.

“Remus, as much as I value your opinions, my personal life is not up for discussion,” he said curtly. 

“I- Harry-” Remus shook his head and gaped. 

“I'm tired of pretending to be normal. I'm not… I'm twisted. So is my father. And so are you, Remus. My father wouldn't back you up against the wall and force names out of you… you did it on your own accord.”

Remus grasped his cup forcefully, looking at the swirling liquid. He sighed deeply. “I wish I could say you're wrong.” He raised his head and stared straight into Harry's eyes. “But I can only beg you to see reason and stop. Stop the killing.”

Harry pursed his lips. “I'm sorry,” he said. He stood up and reached with his hand, placing it on the older man's shoulder and squeezing it softly. 

He let himself out alone. 

* * *

A few days had passed. Harry had felt more like himself in those days than he did in eight years. He had been on the lookout for another prey and now he had it at his mercy. 

The Carrows had not aged well since the last time Harry had laid eyes on them. Like many of the people who had stood bound on this same spot, they had committed crimes, repeatedly using the Cruciatus curse on innocents, and gotten away with it, claiming to be under the Imperius curse. They wouldn't be able to get away now. Not wandless, with their arms and legs bound tightly, with buckets right beneath their heads. 

Harry stared at his work with a proud smile. He'd done it himself, at last. He stared at his hands, one of them gripping his wand, and he flexed them. It felt so familiar, so right. He looked around himself and found that the room they were in was familiar as well. He felt like he could walk around and not bump into anything if he were to close his eyes. He grinned and went to pick up his two-way mirror. He whispered Sirius’ name into it and in seconds, his father’s face greeted him.

“Hello, Sunshine,” he said, grinning.

Harry mimicked his smile. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Sirius hummed in anticipation, and soon enough, Harry positioned the mirror so he could show his father the setting for his next murder. His victims - though they could hardly be called that - were facing each other, struggling against the magical ropes.

“Fuck, I can’t believe it…” Sirius whispered, astounded. “You were serious when you said you’d let me watch.”

“I’m always serious,” Harry winked. 

Sirius chuckled darkly. “How does it feel to be the ones held captive?” he spoke directly to the struggling pair.

Both tried to speak but their words came out muffled by the gags on their mouths. Their piercing gaze gave away their reply. 

“Did you know they used the Cruciatus on children?” Harry asked his father. “I saw their file in the office.”

“Pity your muggleborn victims aren’t still alive to witness you squeal like pigs… it’d be a show they’d love to see, when the blood rushes out of you…” Sirius taunted.

Harry looked at the mirror and saw his father’s eyes glinting darkly. He’d never seen this expression on his face. He wished like never before that he could be here with him. 

“I’ve missed this show, too. The looks on their faces… you’ve seen it happen before, haven’t you, when someone bleeds out?” he asked the siblings. “You go cold, pale… your organs start to work harder to prevent death from coming, but it only makes the heart pump faster, depleting you of blood fairly quickly. But it’s your head that makes the most fun work.”

“It’s true,” Harry added. “I’ve heard accounts of people how almost bled out to death… some say the anxiety was almost too much to bear. Some even hallucinated.”

“I’d bet a few galleons on how you’ll hallucinate, seeing the faces of the people you tortured,” Sirius said, chuckling. “But I’ll settle for just watching the life bleed out of you.”

“Well, let’s get to it,” Harry said, already feeling his fingertips tingle. He longed to hear the spell roll out of his tongue. “I want to see it with my own eyes at last.”

He placed the mirror on a small table where he kept his instruments, where Sirius could watch the scene. He breathed in and smirked.

“Which one should go first?” Harry asked. 

“Would I seem old-fashioned if I said ladies first?” Sirius replied. 

“Nah, I don’t think she’ll mind it,” Harry replied, pointing his wand at the trembling woman. Her muffled screams filled the room, forming a symphony along with her brother’s menacing growls. “ _Ego cruentatur vobis._ ”

Amycus Carrow’s eyes widened in shock and his growls turned to wails as he watched his sister bleed out of every orifice of her face, spluttering deep red against her gag. Her legs trembled and would have made her crumble to the floor if it hadn’t been for the tightly stretched ropes. She paled rapidly and her eyes darted around the room in distress… maybe she was indeed hallucinating.

Harry waved towards Amycus and repeated the curse, watching with twinkling eyes as the scene unfolded. Their screams filled the room. Harry turned to the mirror and saw his father staring in awe at his work. He looked proud and fierce. It wasn’t just that he had witnessed the killings; it was that Harry had been the one to do it. 

The spectacle was over and the buckets were filled. Both bodies hung lifeless from their ropes, lone drops of blood spilling every now and then. 

Harry took the mirror in his hands. “Are you proud of me, Daddy?” Harry asked. 

“You make Daddy proud...and horny. Where are you?” Sirius asked. Harry smiled. “You don’t recognize it, Daddy? After the long hours we spent down here?” He took the mirror upstairs, through the halls and outside. He pointed the mirror to the abandoned house. Once upon a time, it had been lovely. Now, however, the woods had encroached so closely to it as if they would wrap themselves around it and claim it as their own. To Harry, it had been Wonderland growing up. Looking at it now, one might imagine this is what the gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel might look like with its candies and sugar stripped by wild animals and nature, now that the children had fled to safety and the hungry witch dead in her oven.

Old and run-down.

Harry figured there were just enough uses for it before his work was finished and it finally gave out and rotted. That made his heart sting. Maybe he could build a new house though to take its place. That made his heart sing.

“Sunshine?” Sirius asked. Harry snapped to attention. 

“Yes, sir.” Harry replied sweetly. 

“Do you sleep here?” Sirius asked. 

“Sometimes.” Harry replied. “In my old room.” 

Sirius nodded. “Go there. For old time’s sake.” Harry smiled as he made his way inside. 

“Why am I being sent to my room, Daddy?” he asked innocently. 

Sirius chuckled. “I can’t be inside you...not yet. But I can watch my Sunshine play...” He winked.

Harry understood what Sirius wanted and felt his blood pump harder through his veins. He was still slightly overcome with adrenaline from his murder, he felt so energised… he strode to his room, feeling his cock harden more the closer he was to it, and threw himself on the bed. He lay on his back and started to unzip his jeans, kicking them off the bed along with his sneakers and boxers, all the while looking at the mirror through hooded-eyes.

“Are you going to obey me?” Sirius asked. Harry nodded. “Take off your shirt.”

Harry did as he was told, throwing the shirt on the floor. He started sliding his hand along his chest, feeling the soft skin and the wisps of hair tangle in his fingers. 

“Pinch your nipple, love,” he heard Sirius say, and directed his hand to his pink nipple.

“Feels good, Daddy,” Harry moaned.

“Yeah… wish it was my mouth instead, don’t you? Now, let your hand slide down… tell me how hard you are.”

Harry slithered his hand around his cock, grabbing the base with pressure. “I’m so hard… I won’t last long if you keep taunting me…”

“Don’t worry, Sunshine… you did so good today, made me so proud… you deserve your reward.” Sirius seemed to be fumbling with his pants too, but his voice remained controlled. “Touch your pretty cock for me, Harry.”

Harry complied and started stroking himself. He attempted a slow pace but his hands were too eager and frantic. “I wanna go fast,” he whimpered. 

“Yeah, go fast… Stroke yourself harder.”

Both men stroked their cocks on either side of the mirror, panting as the pleasure built inside of them. 

“Let me see you,” Sirius demanded. “I want you to play with your hole while you stroke yourself.”

Harry reached for his discarded jeans and took off his wand, placing a levitating spell on the mirror. It was now far enough for Sirius to see his body at least down to his thighs. Harry brought his left hand to his mouth and wet two of its fingers slowly and teasingly, eliciting a moan from the other side of the mirror.

“That’s it, Sunshine… I want to watch you fuck yourself.”

Harry was painfully hard by now, but he waited until both fingers were pushed inside his arse before stroking himself again with his free hand. He managed to set a fast rhythm, stroking and pumping his fingers, each time going further inside his channel. 

“Fuck, Harry… you look so beautiful,” Sirius growled. “I want to see you come.”

“So close, Daddy,” Harry moaned with his eyes narrowed. “I want to come with you.”

Sirius quickened his pace and so did the younger man, angling his arm so he could hit his spot just right. He felt electrified by the rush of adrenaline that still pumped through him, amplifying his pleasure. Sirius growled louder and Harry knew he was about to come, and he let his mind be filled with his cries, pushing him towards his orgasm. Hot spurts painted his stomach, and he was sure this was the most fun he’d had while using his hands. Harry lay with his eyes closed for a while. 

“Are you drifting off?” Sirius’ asked softly after a minute. 

Harry stirred and blinked. “Yeah… I can’t though,” he stretched on the bed, smiling. “I still have work to do.”

He stood up, picking up his wand to clean the mess, and started dressing himself up. “Let me watch?” Sirius’ sated voice asked.

Harry grinned. “Always.”

* * *

Bill crept into the apartment and found it empty. He knew Ron was at the Burrow visiting so maybe this was his chance to talk to Harry alone. 

“Harry?” he called. 

No answer. Where could he have gone? Bill wanted one last shot to salvage any relationship they still had or possibly start over as just friends. He sighed when he had searched everywhere. Or thought he had. He knew there was a room that was always locked. Harry said it was an office or a room for meditation. Private. Bill noticed a bluish light coming from under the door.

Bill’s curiosity got the better of him.

He crept to the door and whispered the charm to unlock it. Ron was too loyal to peek in but something about the room called to Bill. He glanced around the room and recognized the things from his father’s muggle obsession. Computers. Sitting on a desk was the control center. A lap...top? And something was on the screen, like a video replaying on loop. Bill got closer, careful not to touch anything. It could be part of Harry’s work for all he knew. On the screen, a hooded shadow picked up an object in this same room. Then, the figure turned and revealed to be Harry. 

Bill frowned. What was Harry holding in his hands? And why would he be recording himself in his own house? He squinted as he tried to understand what the object he was holding was - it was a doll. A doll very similar to the ones the Prophet had shown every week as more and more purebloods were murdered. He approached the corner of the room, the place where Harry was seen picking up the doll on the computer. There were more dolls, all of them very alike the ones in the newspaper, the ones delivered to the grieving families. He felt his blood run cold.

“All this time…” Bill swallowed. His throat was dry. “All this time...it was you?”


	10. Tender shepherd, tender shepherd

**Ch. 10 - Tender Shepherd, Tender Shepherd**

Harry swirled into his room, landing graciously on his feet. He was getting better at this portkey thing; barely felt nauseous at all like the first couple of times. It had been the quickest and swiftest way to get to the cabin. He'd used a suspicious looking tissue that he doubted Ron would dare touch, hidden inside his nightstand drawer. 

He had his bag in one hand, where he carried some instruments and clean clothes in case things got messy. He used it to carry the doll he chose for the victim as well. He carried two this time, one for each Carrow. In the other hand, he had the two-way mirror. He headed for the spare room where he locked away his belongings in safety, but was startled to see the door was open. He felt his heart pump insanely fast in his chest, almost like it could dig a hole through it. Right then he knew he'd been careless. 

He dropped the bag on the floor and unpocketed his wand, flexing his fingers around it and the mirror he still grasped in his left hand. It had long disconnected from Sirius' own mirror. 

He approached the door and as soon as he entered, he saw Bill sitting down on the floor looking crestfallen. The moment the redhead saw him, he jumped to his feet with an alarmed expression. They looked at each other in silence for some time, assessing, bearing similar questioning and accusing expressions on their faces. 

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked first, trying not to sound too harsh. He needed to play nice, to assess the situation. From the corner of his eye he saw that his laptop was still running the program showing the footage, and he felt like punching himself. 

"I had to wait. I had to be sure," Bill said, noticeably willing his voice not to tremble. 

"Be sure? What are you talking about?" Harry tried, chuckling lightly. 

"You know I'm not that stupid, Harry, so please don't. How could you do it?" 

Harry felt his hands grip his wand almost to the point of breaking it. He tried to breathe. 

"This is none of your business, Bill," he said, wishing with all his might that Bill was talking about something else entirely, that he was playing with him… anything that meant he didn't know things he shouldn't know. 

"How the fuck is it not my business?! You're a murderer! It was you all this time!" Bill replied hotly, his face heating up. 

"You don't know what you're saying-" 

"I saw-" 

"You don't know what you saw!" Harry interrupted loudly. "Why did you have to meddle? Why are you even here?" 

"It doesn't matter why I'm here, it matters that I know who you are! How could you, Harry? You're an Auror, you had a perfect life - and Ron, how could you do that to Ron? He's on the hunt for this psychotic killer and now it turns out it's you!" Bill's face was impossibly red and his expression was one of despair. He raised his wand and pointed it to Harry, who pointed his back. 

"Let's just calm down… You-" 

A wild flash of red escaped Bill's wand as soon as he yelled out a stunning spell, but Harry managed to throw a shield charm just in time to avoid it. Bill continued to repeatedly blast him with spells but Harry's training was proving very useful. Everytime a spell soared his way, Harry managed to block it. His hand was still tightly gripping the mirror, and in the midst of the duel Harry didn't notice as a voice came through it, calling his name and asking if he'd arrived home safely. No answer came through to the other side, just two male voices yelling curses and jinxes, which flew from one side of the room to the other. 

From the other side of the mirror, Sirius' voice kept calling his son's name frantically, but without answer. The duel seemed to be taking an angrier, gorier turn as Harry was hit with wood shrapnel blasted off a cabinet by Bill. Harry staggered backwards and Bill was about to stun him, but a flash of silver shaped like a large furry dog appeared in front of Harry, blocking the redhead's spell. Both men looked at the Patronus form in confusion, but Harry was quick to recover, raising his wand and stunning Bill. As the older man fell to the ground, Harry got to his feet and admired the Patronus figure that now sat quietly at his feet. He raised the mirror that he still held in his left hand and smiled at the face he saw. 

"Thanks," he said, slightly out of breath. "How did you do that? Do you have a wand I don't know about?" 

"No, I can cast some wandless spells. I started training when I first started killing, I knew it was only a matter of time until I got arrested and it could come in handy. Are you alright?" Sirius asked through the mirror, almost as out of breath as his son. 

"Yes, thanks to you I am… I'd forgotten just how good he was at duelling. For a second there I thought I was done…" 

"What the hell happened?" 

"Bill found out. I was sloppy, I left my laptop running, I never got to erase the footage from when I found I was the killer…" Harry rubbed his forehead as he furrowed his brows. "It was stupid, I should have known better…" 

"Harry," Sirius spoke in a gentle voice. "even I was caught by a stupid mistake. Don't be so hard on yourself. Everything turned out fine." 

"Thanks, Dad… if you hadn't been here to protect me…" 

"I always will be. I'm sorry that I couldn't be before, but now I am. I will always protect you, Sunshine." Sirius sighed. "So, what do we do with him now?" 

Harry hesitated for some seconds before answering. He looked at the unconscious man on the floor, his long hair loose and dishevelled. He'd called him his boyfriend once… they'd made love. Harry ran his emotions through his head, going back to the times they lay in bed together, and found he could hardly call it making love. No, that was not love… they'd had sex. There was only ever one man he could say he'd made love to. 

Now that he looked at Bill, he felt very little about him. There had been fondness before, but now it was practically gone. He thought hard and understood that the feelings were only residual, and that the slight remorse he was now feeling was merely because he was Ron's brother. He thought about Ron and how devastated his friend would be… because Harry knew there was no possible positive outcome for Bill. It wasn't even about revenge - for snooping around and finding out his true identity; for cheating on him with the French girl - it was not about that. It was about self-preservation. 

"You suggested the killer send a letter…" Harry finally answered as a fragment of an idea started to form in his head. "I need to think about it first. But I think I know what to do."

"If you need any help, anything I can do from inside St. Mungo's… or Remus, I'm sure he can help you. " 

"No, I don't want to drag Remus into this anymore… I could see the guilt in his eyes, Dad. It's been wearing him out for years, he can't do this anymore. And he knows the Weasleys. I can't do that to him." 

Sirius smiled fondly on his side of the mirror. "You are so kind, Harry… you might be a killer, but you're still Lily's son." 

Harry smiled back; it always warmed him to know about his similarities to his birth parents. He straightened up and nodded his head, as if telling himself he could do this. It wouldn't be long until Bill woke up. He waved his wand and levitated his limp body, floating Bill by his side as he reached his bedroom. 

"I'm going to take him to the cabin. I might have to keep him there for a few days before I can figure out what to do," he told Sirius. 

"That's a good idea. Be careful. Don't let him talk you out of it," Sirius said, frowning in concern. 

"I won't. I have to go now, before he wakes up. I love you." 

"I love you, too, Sunshine." 

Harry put the mirror down on his nightstand. He took hold of Bill by his side, cancelling his levitation spell so the redhead could hang limply against his body, making it easier to hold on as they swirled out of the bedroom. 

* * *

Harry paced the large, dusty bedroom as he waited for Bill to wake up. He'd removed his wand and his possessions and he'd tied him up firmly on the bed against the bedpost. He pondered on tying him down on the floor, but he felt there was no need to hurt him or make him more uncomfortable than he'd already be. 

The redhead stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He focused them and they quickly widened as he took in his surroundings and the young man that stood in front of him. 

Once Harry saw he was awake, he made to leave. He didn't want to be around Bill any longer than he had to. 

"Harry, wait, please!" Bill pleaded. "You didn't have to do this, we can talk, we can-" 

"We can't," Harry said curtly. "There's no point in talking, Bill. You found out. There's no other way to do this; or rather, no other way that suits you. I'm sorry." 

"You're sorry? You're holding me hostage and you're sorry?!" Bill's voice vibrated through the walls. 

"Yes, I actually am sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you. Now please calm down."

"Calm down? How can I calm the fuck down?!" As he yelled, Bill kept trying to free himself from the magical ropes, grabbing the bedpost and frantically shaking it. 

"Just calm down. I'm not going to kill you," Harry said, pushing the door to leave the room. 

"You're not going to - what're you going to do to me?!" Bill shouted at the door. "What're you gonna do?!" 

Bill kept screaming angrily at the door, but no answer came. 

* * *

Bill had been tied in the bedroom for two days. Harry would come and feed him or put down a bucket for him to relieve himself and return later to get rid of it. Rinse, lather, repeat. Bill barely noticed the door open after awhile. To his surprise, Harry pulled up a chair. 

“He wants to talk to you,” he said. 

He was holding a mirror. Bill raised a brow. 

“Your nutjob father?” he asked. 

Harry stood up and slapped him hard.

“Sunshine!” a voice from the mirror reprimanded. “Compose yourself. I stopped giving a shit about what people thought of me back in Hogwarts.”

Harry smiled.

“Yes, Daddy,” he replied and turned the mirror around to show Bill the face of Sirius Black. 

“Good morning,” Sirius said. “I’m sure you’re confused. Scared even. That’s normal,” he greeted in an almost reassuring voice.

Bill glared. “I’m sure,” he agreed. “I’m sure a lot of your victims were scared. Did you keep them trussed up like this for days until you carried out your sick work? I’m not going to scream or beg you so get it over and done with, you sick fuck. I suggest it be soon because if I get out, I’m turning you and your little psycho 'sunshine' in. I’m sure you won’t escape the Dementors this time. Hell, they might Kiss you both so you can go to Hell together.”

Sirius chuckled. “My dear boy,” he said, sipping his tea. “you are not on the list. You did not believe in pure-blood superiority nor did you abuse my darling. I admit I am not very fond of you but that’s only because you touched what was mine. But even I can forgive. No, we have something else in mind, William. We need to tie up loose ends and you’re perfect for the job. You’ll keep your life.”

“Your mind, however,” Harry added, smiling a beautiful but deadly smile. “not so much. I’m sorry, Billy, but you brought this on yourself. I tried to distance myself from you. I wanted you to just leave and live a happy life. I wanted you to maybe marry that French tart you were fucking behind my back but no...you had to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. I don’t want to kill you but I can’t just let you leave. Not until you’re...reprogrammed.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Bill yelled, trying to yank the ropes that tied him to the bedpost.

“You’re quite the Gryffindor…” Sirius said, chuckling. “You’re tied up, wandless, but you still yell at your captors...”

“You’re going to get caught, you know? Ron’s going to find me.” 

“Ron is a great strategist, he really is, but most times he misses what’s right under his nose…” Harry said, shrugging. “He’s not going to be a problem.”

“How can you do that to your best friend?! He’ll be devastated if you do anything to me! You’re a fucking monster!”

“That’s enough!” Sirius intervened. “You know… I never wanted a family. I never wanted a wife. Hell, never even wanted kids… until a baby wrapped in a white blanket was put in my arms… and _you_ very nearly took him from me the day you went snooping around. For that, you’ll suffer the consequences.”

Bill was about to shout back at the mirror but was frozen in place by a swift flick of Harry’s wand. Harry sighed sadly as he looked at the enraged expression on the redhead’s face. He was tired and there was no point in listening to a doomed man’s talk.

“Can you keep me company while I get home?” Harry asked his father through the mirror.

“Of course, Sunshine,” the man answered.

Harry locked the door of the master bedroom where Bill was confined and walked out of the house. He touched the portkey and swirled back to his own bedroom still gripping the mirror tightly in his hand. He placed it on his nightstand and undressed, lying down on his bed and pushing the covers up to his chest. He picked the mirror up.

“Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day. It’s the first day at work after my break. It’ll all end then, if I play my cards right,” he told Sirius.

“I trust you, Harry. I know you’ll succeed, you’ve faced harder challenges. You’ve done this work all by yourself.”

“That’s not completely true… I haven’t told you before, but I used to sneak into the archives room during lunch so I could read your file. I always told myself it was because I despised what you did so much, because I wanted to learn so I could catch other murderers like you. But now I know it was for two other reasons.”

“What were they?”

“For one, I wanted to be close to you,” Harry answered, unable to stop a slight blush. “I didn’t know any other way. And now I know I was also learning from you… not how to catch a murderer, but how to become one.”

Sirius smiled fondly at his son. “Whatever anyone says… you’re not a monster. We’re twisted, yes, but it’s just the way we are… and we have each other. I couldn’t be happier.”

Harry returned the smile. “I’m happy to have found you again, too. I should sleep, it’s late… calm me down?” he stifled a yawn. 

“A song?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s see if I still remember…” Sirius cleared his throat before starting the lullaby he used to sing to Harry when he was a little boy. It always calmed him, even after the nastiest nightmares and the loudest thunderstorms.

_“Tender shepherd_

_Tender shepherd_

_Let me help you count your sheep_

_One in the meadow_

_Two in the garden_

_Three in the nursery_

_Fast asleep_

_Tender shepherd_

_Tender Shepherd_

_Watches over all his sheep_

_One say your prayers_

_And two close your eyes_

_And three safe and happily_

_Fall asleep.”_

The mirror slowly slid from Harry’s hand to the mattress as he fell asleep, but Sirius kept singing the lullaby. In truth, it calmed him as well. He never thought he’d sing this song again. His days had seemed so dark just a few months ago, like the last eight years had been a shipwreck, sinking lower and lower into the deep, grim ocean. Harry came along and brought light, lifting him from the shadows with every kiss. 

Soon, he too fell asleep.


	11. Think Twice

**Ch. 11 - Think Twice**

As he walked through the heavy double-sided oak doors on level 2 on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry fully grasped just how tough his task would be. It was the first time walking through these halls knowing what he was. It was the first time he would be deliberately and consciously concealing his acts from his colleagues and from the hand that had fed him for years now. He’d like to say he had this, but he was nervous. He knew his co-workers well enough to know it wasn’t easy to fool them - it crossed his mind plenty of times that maybe the reason he had gone so long undetected was because before he didn’t even know he was hiding. Now that he knew he was the murderer, he was somewhat afraid he’d give it away.

He wasn’t worried about Ron, though. He had known him for so long, known him to the core, so he was confident he would be easiest to fool. As much as he had liked to kill those people, to feel the thrill of it, he maintained a sense of morality… of guilt. He never felt guilty in killing those pure-blooded prejudiced bastards, but he knew he’d feel terrible if Ron ever found out he was the killer. However sick he was, he was no monster like Bill had said - the only reason Bill was being held captive this very moment was because he had no other choice.

He was instantly greeted by his co-workers in a wave of ‘welcome backs’. As he looked around him, greeting back and trying to look normal, he realised he did not belong here anymore. He didn’t fit. This wasn’t him anymore, the lawful Auror climbing his way to the top. The respected team leader. Even if the others couldn’t see it, he could feel it. He shook it off and focused on his task. 

“So, who can put me up to speed about new leads?” he asked aloud. 

“There’s been some good leads lately, Sir,” Auror Steele was the first to answer, his deep, baritone voice booming through the cubicles. “The murderer spoke to us for the first time; he sent a small letter, or rather a riddle, along with the two dolls representing siblings Alecto and Amycus Carrow.”

Harry let himself sound surprised as Steele briefed him on the siblings’ background, all the while congratulating himself for succeeding on sending one of several forged leads and evidence. The riddle had been tricky, but he knew his team and he knew they’d crack it just in time for his first day.

“The riddle he sent confirmed our first suspicions about the killer being a pureblood himself,” Auror Heafy added.

Harry nodded; even though he wasn’t a pureblood himself, both the original killer and the now to be blamed killer were, and that was a key factor in his task.

“It should narrow down the list of suspects, but as you know, many members of the twenty-eight have fled the country for fear of being hunted down, so there’s the whole bureaucracy of them being called in the Ministry for questioning from other countries…”

“I’m sure Kingsley can convince the Department of Magical Transportation that this is a matter of utmost significance, they’ll hurry it along,” Harry said casually. 

A House-Elf called Windy appeared with a cup of coffee for Harry. Her long ears pointed downwards toward the floor. Her head sported hair unlike most of the males of her species who were usually hairless. Her’s was pearly white and chin-length. For a dress, she used a cut lace tablecloth, white like her hair, and synched at the waist with a thin, short rope. Her name came from her speed around the office. Quick but always efficient. 

“Windy is happy to see Mister Harry Potter!” she announced. Her amber eyes sparkled with joyful tears when he smiled at her. 

“Thank you, Windy. Good to see you, too. Delicious coffee as always,” he told her. 

She would find a new, hand-stitch hat come payday as well as her generous pay of galleons, sickles, and Knuts. Ever since Hermione came to office, House-Elves’ lives were much better. They could earn their retirement instead of having their heads chopped off, and a law was passed stating that a family could no longer enslave an Elf for life, and had to offer an Elf their freedom should the Elf requested it or was found to be abused. In fact, a village near Hogsmeade had been established called Elvenshire. Built by Free-Elves for Free-Elves. They did work but for wage and fair treatment. 

“Anything else, Mister Potter?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “No. I think Ms. Granger is back as well, though. You can go see if she needs anything while Steele and I talk,” he suggested kindly. 

She was gone with a gust of wind rather than a pop.

“So what now?” Steele asked.

Harry examined the list of pureblood families. He should stick to his idea. A way to ensure no suspicion fell on him. He struggled to keep his mouth from twisting into a smirk Sirius would be proud of. 

“We should form teams, split up, and talk to each remaining pureblood family and dig deeper than last time, way deeper,” he offered. 

Steele raised a brow. “What reason should we give them?” he asked. 

Harry sighed. “You just told me the riddle alludes to our murderous ‘friend’ being a pureblood as well. If that is the case, we need to obtain warrants so we can enter their homes and search for any evidence, anything that can point the way. We need to find out what property is owned by these families and where even if they own a vacation house in the middle of the damn desert.” He sipped his coffee.

“Unless…” he continued putting down his mug and examining the list. “Unless you have any other ideas, Steele. I’m open to any and all suggestions.”

Steele glanced over at his other colleagues and they all seemed to nod in agreement to Harry's suggestion. It was refreshing to know his influence was still intact in his department.

"Well, then let's not waste any more time. Let's team up and track down which families are currently in the country and which ones have evaded and bring them back."

Harry stood up and all the gears on the office immediately came into motion. The Aurors gathered in teams, a long list magically appeared on chalk on a blackboard, containing the names of the Pureblood families starting by the most socially relevant ones. 

Now, it was only a matter of time. 

* * *

“You’re happy,” Sirius said.

Harry smiled. “It’s almost over, Daddy. A few more days. A week maybe,” he said as they strolled the grounds of St. Mungo’s. 

“What are you up to, Sunshine? You’re happy but also exhausted. Are they forcing you into a pile of work already?” he growled. 

Harry laughed. “We’ve been conducting raids, Daddy. On all the homes owned by Pureblood witches and wizards. It’s been getting us nowhere and my co-workers are close to giving up.”

Sirius grinned. “Oh? Why is that good?” 

Harry chuckled. “Just when all hope seems lost, we’re going to find something big to crack the case wide open and the new Dollmaker’s work will be complete. The world will know who the monster is,” he explained. 

Sirius pulled him behind a tree out of sight and kissed him deeply. “Do you feel regret?” he asked after a while. “Tell me,” he urged.

Harry thought for a few seconds. “Sometimes…” he admitted. “Sometimes I do. Sometimes I think twice and want to stop.”

“But?” Sirius asked.

“But...but then I remember what we’re doing is noble and...and I want to...I want to please you. Redeem myself for those long eight years,” Harry said. 

Sirius smiled. “You have always pleased me, Sunshine. Just because you didn’t see me, it didn’t mean I stopped caring. Stopped loving you.” He kissed Harry again. “I never wanted to propel you to do something you think is wrong just to please me."

"You didn't," Harry assured him. "Whatever propelled me, as you put it, was already buried deep inside my mind. It wanted - needed - to come out, to resurface. I did this for myself. Making you proud is just a nice bonus."

Sirius seemed satisfied with the answer. "So we go ahead with our plan then? Once you do this...there’s no going back,” he warned. “You’re going to tear a family apart.”

“Yes...but...I don’t care,” Harry said. “I have to. For...for us. I want to be with you forever anyway I can. If this is the only way, so be it. Besides, they are strong as a family.”

"That they are," Sirius said, nodding. "You know, whenever I would kill someone, I would always think about the families of the dead."

"Me too," Harry stated. "But then I think about the families of the muggleborns they hurt, destroyed or scammed, and all other thoughts go away. It's truly a shame for Bill, but it's the way it is." He smiled and returned Sirius’ kiss. “I have a surprise for you, Daddy,” he purred. 

Sirius raised a brow as they emerged from behind the tree before anyone noticed them out of sight. “A surprise for me, Sunshine… you don’t have to do anything special.”

Harry thought of the arrangements he was making. How much better things would be. How less stressful his life would be. How near to perfection it would soon be. Just a little bit longer. A week at the most, perhaps. Maybe not even that with a little luck. He smiled up at Sirius who gave him a genuine, loving smile only he had the pleasure of seeing. A reserved, secret smile.

“Trust me,” he said. “You will be over the moon with this surprise.”

* * *

Sirius lay awake in his bed that night remembering when his life as a free man ended. He was so careful to cover his tracks but even then he knew it couldn’t last forever. And _she_ was so damn nosy! 

* * *

_They were so lost in the pleasure they didn’t hear the old car return hours later. Nor did they hear the bell above the door ring or her footsteps on the stairs leading to their flat above the shop. They didn’t hear her come inside with her packages and groceries or her calling for them. Even then, they could have quickly slipped into their clothes and pretend they were sweaty and tired from dueling. She might have scolded them for doing it inside and not going down to the workshop instead._

_No, he didn’t hear her until she screamed at what she had discovered._

* * *

_“You are disgusting!” Marlene screamed._

_“So you’ve told me,” Sirius sighed, rubbing his temples. “Do be quiet,” he insisted._

_His wife stopped pacing in shock. “Be...be quiet?! I caught you fucking our SON and you want me to be quiet! You sick fuck!” she threw a book at him from the coffee table. He deflected it. Gilderoy Lockhart’s thick volumes could have put him in a coma if he hadn’t. He tapped his wand against his knee in boredom._

_“First, Marlene, he is not actually our son. Second, I don’t care if you file for divorce this very moment. I told you long ago I wanted to remain good friends like we were in school. But no, you roped me into a farce of a marriage. I thought perhaps I could find love for you and I put up with you for Harry’s sake because he does love you like a mother. However, the years have scrubbed away any chance of me even LIKING you. Leave. Harry stays with me and we can arrange visitation.”_

_Marlene’s brown eyes glared daggers into him. Honestly, it was like seeing a kitten acting like a lion. It was cute._

_“I...I hate you…” she hissed, grabbing the basket of laundry. She needed to do something to calm herself down and figure out where to go from here. Her heart was breaking and she could barely even look at Harry, who was in his room sobbing after his mother had begun screaming at Sirius for whatever reason, and sent Harry fleeing and Sirius demanding they go to the living room to talk. Sirius could take a lot but someone upsetting his boy was one of the few things that made him lose control._

_Sirius sipped his butterbeer and shrugged. “I can’t say I’m upset about that,” he replied._

_Marlene thundered down to the workshop. There was another adjacent room used to do laundry. True, being a witch, she could have done it in seconds with her wand but when she was upset or mad, she needed an activity to calm down. So down she went. She paused and looked at the door to the workshop. It was ajar and a strange smell was wafting through. Curious, she went closer. A devilish thought went through her mind. She could ruin his latest creation. His livelihood. That would teach him._

_She poked her head inside._

_There was no doll on the long table but materials were laid out and that awful-smelling paint was waiting in several jars. A barrel sat beside the table. How odd. She came closer still. The smell was worse now. What kind of materials did he make those beautiful dolls from?! She raised the lid of the barrel...and screamed. The head of the man in the paper stared back at her. The missing man...the dead man. Avery._

* * *

_He’d almost silenced her but she got lucky. Before his wand was half-raised, there was a pop. Marlene had been a member of a club in Hogwarts. A dueling club. The members kept gold coins as a way to announce a meeting or to call for help. She was sure no one else kept theirs as a token of good luck as well. A lucky charm. But someone did. Someone heeded its call._

_“Drop it!” Nymphadora Tonks cried._

_Sirius sighed and literally dropped his wand. Tonks was small but she was a trained Auror. It was over. He knew it the moment Tonks sent her Patronus with a message for her fellow Aurors to come quickly. The Dollmaker was finished.  
_

_Marlene Obliviated herself not long after and Harry was taken in by Tonks and Remus. The couple had a son but Remus would leave some time later as his love for someone else was too great. Tonks was crushed but accepted it and got Harry through Hogwarts and his Auror training. Sirius never saw his Sunshine again…_

* * *

...until now.

Sirius' insane grin spread as he lay on his bed. “Oh, Marlene,” he sighed in mock pity. “You tried so hard to part us and look where you are. I always win, my dear. Always.” He rolled over. “Think twice before you fuck with me or my boy.”

* * *

“This is hopeless.” Steel wiped a sweaty brow.

“Of course it is,” Ron snipped, fretting at the intrusion on his brother's home. “I told you my family's innocent in all this. I don’t see why we’re searching my brother’s house while he’s away on vacation.” 

He had received an owl from Bill stating he needed to get away for awhile. His breakup with Harry was devastating and he needed some private time. He would write to the family soon though. He swore.

“We’ll let him know we had a warrant,” Harry replied, searching the pantry. “We can’t just skip someone, Ron. I know you and your family would never do these terrible things but everyone has to be searched. After all of this--” he paused. “What’s this?” he asked pointing to a trap door in the floor. 

Ron came over. “Oh, that? Just an old vegetable cellar,” he explained. "He doesn’t really need it. He’s been planning to seal it off,” he shrugged. “Can we go now?”

“Not just yet,” Steele piped up and pulled the round handle of the trap door.

It opened with a creak. The three teammates stepped down the stairs with their wands lit up with _Lumos Maxima._ As Ron had said, it seemed to be a simple cellar with empty shelves. Ron gulped at the large spiderwebs. He hated spiders. He’d been scared of the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts when Rubeus Hagrid, a half-giant but very friendly man and Gameskeeper of Hogwarts, had told them about a colony of humongous spiders deep in the forest. 

“See?” he asked, wanting to leave. “Nothing! Now let’s…”

Steel stepped closer to a shelf in the very back and bent down to uncover something. Something hidden by an old, ragged potato sack.

“What is it?” Harry asked as Steel brought it over, a grim and sad look on his face. He looked at Ron and shook his head as he held up the item.

“Boy, your brother has much explaining to do,” he said at last.

In his careful hands, he held a doll.


	12. Catch me once, catch me twice, and I'm yours to keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for all of those who stuck with us along the way. Your reviews made us so happy and so proud.  
> It was hard to settle on which ending our lovely characters should have, so... for those wishing for a different ending, stay tuned to see what could have gone differently in a split second...

**Ch. 12-Catch Me Once, Catch Me Twice, And I’m Yours to Keep**

Harry observed his friend from his corner of the cellar and watched as his eyes grew wider and wider, and his face redder than ever. Ron looked from the doll to Auror Steele in shock and shook his head for a very long time, not able to say a word. He studied the doll, which was still unmarked with a family crest and had no significant characteristics that could indicate that it belonged to a victim yet. 

“That’s - it can’t - it can’t be,” he said as he continued to shake his head. He chuckled nervously, feigning nonchalance. He looked at Harry, expecting some reassurance from him. “It’s Bill.”

Harry gaped a bit and frowned. Ron must have realised Harry was not the best person he could ask to vouch for his brother.

“I mean, yeah, he cheated on you but that’s a long way from being a… a…” Ron struggled with the words.

“A killer?” Harry helped in an apologetic voice. 

He felt a pang at Ron’s wince. He didn’t feel like the best person in the world right now, but he had to carry on.

“Auror Weasley…” Steele started, placing a protective charm around the doll so the evidence couldn’t be tampered with. “I’m sorry to be the one to say it, but as you know, you can’t keep being a part of the ongoing investigation.”

Ron ran his hands hastily through his hair, still trying to process the fact that there was a doll that would soon be covered in a dead pureblood’s hair hidden on his older brother’s home.

“You have to leave the scene now. I’m going to call this in and get more help to search the place,” Auror Steele added, looking around. “I trust you know you can’t go and search for your brother, Weasley?”

“I don’t even know where he is,” the redhead muttered. Steele looked at him alarmingly. “Because he’s on vacation! That’s all!”

“I’ll accompany him,” Harry intervened, stepping closer to a crestfallen Ron. “Let’s go, I’ll Aparate us home.”

He reached his friend and wrapped his arm around Ron’s, spinning them away to their shared flat. Ron stumbled to the sofa feeling disoriented, but not entirely from the Apparition. He leaned over his knees, burying his head in his hands.

“What the fuck is happening, Harry?” he muttered in despair. “How did this happen?”

There was the pang again.

“I… I don’t know, Ron. I’m sorry,” Harry said, and he truly felt it. 

He reached for the kitchen cabinet and took out two glasses. He filled them both with firewhiskey and handed one to Ron, who took a sip, as did Harry. He studied his friend’s features. He truly did feel awful about doing this to him, of all people. It was one thing to feel no pity towards Selwyn or the Carrows… they were monsters. But to do this to Ron and Ron’s family… it broke his heart. It almost made him wish Bill had turned him in when he had the chance. Almost.

“I need to go and see how things are being handled,” Harry said quietly, downing his drink. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t come out yet. Your mother…”

“Yeah, she doesn’t need to know yet,” Ron muttered behind his hands again. 

Sighing, Harry went to the floo and in seconds, he was back at the Ministry. As he pushed the double-sided oak doors to the Headquarters, multiple heads turned his way with wide eyes and silence settled in the large room. Harry was the lead investigator in this case and everyone knew he was a long-time friend of the Weasley family. No one had seen it coming, they were just as shocked as Ron. A few of them had even met Arthur Weasley, as he worked in the Ministry, and even Bill himself, since he had came in a couple of times to the Auror department to report dangerous activity he had found when dealing with cursed objects. Harry gave his coworkers a moment to stare before speaking.

“I know this might be an awkward path to tread, with our new prime suspect being directly related to one of our fellow coworkers. It certainly is for me. But this is the first real lead - one with solid evidence - that we’ve encountered in this case, and we must treat it like so. Let’s get to work.”

The heads scurried around the room, each going either to their cubicle or gathering around the board where all the information was detailed. This was the right moment for Harry to quietly disappear without anyone noticing, and pay his hostage a visit. 

* * *

“I know what you’re going to do,” Bill said as soon as Harry stepped inside the room he was trapped in. He looked pale and tired, deep purple eyebags under his eyes. His hair looked like a rat’s nest, dishevelled and knotted, possibly from the redhead struggling to find a way out of his confinement.

“It’s quite ingenious, I’d say,” Harry answered, coming closer to the young man to give him some water, which Bill surprisingly accepted without spluttering.

“It’s disgusting, that’s what it is,” he said. “Why couldn’t you have just Obliviated me right then, when I found the footage?”

“Bill, you know as well as I do that that could have gone wrong. Memory charms are very complex, and after we duelled, there was a very high chance you’d remember parts of such intense feelings,” Harry answered. “I could end up performing a weak charm and then parts of the memory could resurface, or I could perform a too strong charm and damage your mind too soon, rendering you useless to me.”

“So you’re choosing to damage my mind when you see fit, instead. Disgusting,” Bill spat out.

“I have to agree on that, on some level. But it really was my only choice. It was either that or to kill you, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that to Ron… or to Mrs. Weasley. She’d be broken beyond repair. This way she still gets to see her son, even if he won’t recognise her.”

Bill’s expression turned into one of anguish and he closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. 

“Please, Harry,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, Bill.”

It was final. It would be done soon. Then, all of this would be over.

* * *

“What do I do?” Harry asked, lying under the sheets with Sirius. “Do I send a letter to the office telling them where to find Bill after we Obliviate him? Is there anyone else to take care of first?” 

The hands roaming his body felt amazing. They soothed any and all doubts he may have had. As long as he had Daddy, he had the world. 

“What about...Mum?”

Sirius shook his head.

“She’s too far gone, Sunshine. Despite her outbursts, there is no chance of recovery. She’s trapped in her own mind. Can you think of anyone else for our list?” He kissed Harry’s forehead and ground his groin against his, making Harry moan and wrap his leg over Sirius’ hip for more of the delicious friction. 

“No, Daddy. I think...our work is finally done. Hey, I have a surprise for you.” 

Reluctantly, he got up and dodged Sirius’ hand trying to pull him back. Harry giggled. 

“Down, boy!” he teased. 

Sirius growled playfully but allowed his baby to walk to his bag in the corner and take something out. 

A small, square box.

He opened it to reveal two things. The first was a letter of resignation as an Auror. The second was an ID badge with his picture. The information stated that Harry Orion Black was a guard for the LeStrange Ward for the Criminally Insane. Sirius stared. 

“Harry, what…” it was rare when he was speechless or surprised.

“I haven’t turned the letter in yet,” Harry said. “I will as soon as we tie up the loose ends. Analese helped me get the job here so we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. Five days a week to be exact.” He smiled. “What do you think?”

Sirius’ eyes shone as he looked from the letter to his son. He had suggested it to him before and had revelled in the idea of it countless times, but he’d never actually believed Harry was going to do it. He could still remember the first times Harry had met him in this same room, questioning him for any leads, so focused on his job… he couldn’t believe he had given it up. Suddenly he felt a pang of guilt. 

“Was it just for me? Because I asked? Because if you want -”

“Dad,” Harry stopped him in his tracks, placing a gentle hand on his stubbled cheek. “It wasn’t right anymore. It had felt right for some time, to be an Auror. I felt like it helped complete me, since I’d felt so utterly incomplete for years. But it’s not right anymore now that I know who I am. I want to be close to you, but I want to be close to myself as well. This whole…” he gestured with his hands, furrowing his brow.

“Journey?” Sirius offered.

“Yes. This whole journey was also about finding myself. And I can’t be myself unless I’m around you. I’m willing to wait for you until you’ve done your time, and I want to be with you along the way.”

Sirius smiled sweetly. “Even knowing I will be old and wrinkled by then?” he asked.

“You’re already old.”

Sirius punched him playfully on the arm. “I’m not! And I’m not wrinkled.”

Harry laughed. “You’re not… you’re beautiful.”

“I know I am,” Sirius answered with a smug smile. “You do still have all the money my delightful parents left me, right? I put it all under your name in case I was caught.”

“Yeah, I never used it up,” Harry answered, offering an apologetic smile. “What with all my repressed hatred towards you… never wanted to make use of anything coming from you or your family. It’s all still there. Why do you ask?”

“Well, for two reasons.” Sirius lay down and pulled Harry to his side. “For one, I want to spend half those savings in a nice little boat so we can sail along the Maldives. And two, I want to spend the other half on a little blue pill to help me get it up… because by then I’m gonna need it.”

As Harry rolled on top of him, laughing and tickling him, he found he’d never been happier in his life. This was it. This was what he had been looking for all along.

* * *

Bill looked up to face the end of Harry’s wand. 

“Nothing personal,” Harry said. “But...you’d tell the first chance you got,” he guessed. 

Bill glared. “Nothing personal, sweetheart,” he replied. “Enjoy burning in hell with your insane daddy. Fleur’s pussy was just a little bit better and more available than your--”

“ _Obliviate_!”

* * *

“You wanted to see me?” Harry asked Kingsley.

The tall, strong man handed Harry the letter. “This came just now. It’s a signed confession.”

“That’s wonderful!” Harry declared, feigning surprise. 

Kingsley shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said, getting to his feet and motioning for Harry to follow. “Read the bottom.” 

Harry did as asked as they hurried to the lifts to take them down to the Floo Network. “'I wonder if you can find me before…'” he paused. “'Before all the answers you seek slip into oblivion…' sir, what does this mean?” he asked, confused. 

Kingsley sighed. “Potter, you’re a smart man. Can’t you guess what Bill Weasley is planning to do? He’s going to lock away any information we need.”

“He’s...going to...Obliviate himself...I’ll call Steele and--”

“I’ve called the team already,” Kingsley said. “Just hope to Merlin we are not too late.”

* * *

**Epilogue**

“Too slow!” Harry laughed.

No sooner had he uttered those words, that a body tackled him into the grass. They were enjoying private time outside thanks to their faithful Analese, who waited by the door that connected to the inside of the building, reading her newspaper. 

“Don’t count your old man out,” Sirius panted. “That’s twice, Sunshine. Twice I’ve caught you. You know what that means.” 

Harry smiled as their fingers linked. 

“I’m yours to keep,” Harry answered.

Inside by the door, Analese heard their muffled laughter and smiled to herself; she knew what kind of man Sirius had been, what he’d done, but she had long learned that there was more to him than just a convicted murderer. Having been a bullied muggleborn, she had always been split between finding his deeds gruesome and fitting. She carried on reading her Daily Prophet.

**DOLLMAKER CASE CLOSED: ELDEST WEASLEY SON FOUND GUILTY**

_The case that has long been haunting Purebloods all over wizarding Britain has finally been closed, Head Auror Shacklebolt announced at today’s press conference. The Dollmaker, William Weasley, 34, is the eldest son of Ministry worker Arthur Weasley and domestic Molly Weasley née Prewett. The murderer was found in his cottage where he had Obliviated himself, making it nearly impossible for the authorities to gather proof, and invalidating any and all forms of interrogation. The leads, however, were clear, and led to Weasley being found guilty of the crimes committed. The sentence will be known in the next days; for now it is only known the murderer will be serving it in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, since his mind is, according to Head Auror Shacklebolt “clean and devoid of any memories, due to a very powerful Memory Charm, performed by himself in order to prevent more information about the case to be extracted”. So far, no direct connections to the original Pureblood murderer, Sirius Black, are known, however Shacklebolt believes it was through Black’s adoptive son, Harry Potter, who had a brief romantic relationship with William Weasley, that the Dollmaker started making the first plans for his killings._

_When contacted, the Weasley family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight themselves, chose not to comment and request that their privacy be respected in these difficult times._

**NEXT WEEK: THE LIFE OF WILLIAM WEASLEY, FULL PROFILE OF THE VICTIMS AND NEVER BEFORE SEEN CRIME SCENE PHOTOS**

Analese turned the page, shaking her head in disbelief. She heard a knock on the door and opened it, letting both Harry and Sirius inside the corridor. 

“Hello again,” she greeted as they walked by her, both men flashing her a delighted smile. 

“I’ll escort him back to his room,” Harry said, placing the handcuffs on his father’s wrists.

“I’ll never get used to being the cuffed one,” Sirius sniggered as they strutted along the white halls. 

Harry laughed to himself as they passed another inmate being escorted by a guard, who greeted Harry. It was his first week on the job, but he found he liked it a lot already. It was definitely slower than his days as an Auror, but he found he appreciated that very much. He was sleeping better at night, eating better as well, and had a lot of free time to spend with his friends and visiting Sirius off duty. He had stopped by Hermione and Remus’ to tell the latter that it was all over. The werewolf had let out a sigh like Harry had never seen him do before, almost like the weight of the world had been lifted from his back.

Harry let his father inside his room and they shared a long, sweet kiss.

“See you tomorrow,” Harry whispered, smiling into his lover’s mouth. 

“Can’t wait for it,” Sirius whispered back, hugging Harry closely.

They let go and Harry let himself outside the room, leaving his dad to his book and feeling ready to do his rounds. As he went down the stairs, he saw a tall redhead making his way towards the fourth floor.

“Ron!” he called out, rushing to meet him. 

The redhead turned around, spotting Harry, and waited for him. 

“Hey,” Harry greeted.

“Hey,” Ron greeted back, smiling softly. “I was visiting, um - you know-”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, knowing Ron would be visiting Bill in his room. “I heard from the other guards he settled in fine, so…”

“Yeah… He’s not speaking much, the Healers said he’s still in shock about, you know, not knowing much about anything…” Ron sighed. 

Harry could tell there was a sadness there, but how could it not be? For all Ron knew, his oldest, brightest brother was a serial killer. It would be hard on anyone. Though he had mentioned a couple of times he was somewhat relieved for the Obliviation, otherwise he was sure Bill would have gotten the Kiss in Azkaban. 

“I haven’t been in his room yet… didn’t want to confuse him. But I’ll keep an eye on him everyday,” Harry promised. 

“Thanks, mate. Oh, there’s something I need to tell you. I haven’t told anyone else yet. I dropped in my resignation letter too.”

“Really? You worked so hard for the job, I’m sure no one at Headquarters will hold it against you…”

“It’s not that,” Ron said, scratching his head. “I mean, not _just_ that. ‘Course I don’t feel that good going in after not figuring that my own brother is… well… you know. But I’ve been thinking and maybe being an Auror is just too much for me. I thought it would be the best job ever, but I think I was wrong.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m joining Fred and George at the shop,” Ron declared with an enthused smile, one that Harry hadn’t seen in quite a while. “They’re opening the other branch and need all the help they can get and this way I can be closer to my family. I think I’ll feel better like that.”

Harry was genuinely happy to hear the news and he nodded as Ron went on. 

“I’m so glad, Ron. This year was rough on us, especially you. You deserve to do something that fulfills you.”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, smiling confidently. “Yeah, I do.”

“I get off in about an hour, do you want me to wait for you? We can grab curry for dinner on our way home.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, mate. See you.”

“See you.”

Ron turned to enter the fourth floor and Harry carried on with his round, feeling lighter than he had before. Life was good. 

Back in Sirius' room, Analese smiled as she handed him his afternoon tea. “What are you thinking about, Mr. Black?” she asked, as he looked out his window.

“I'm thinking of emerald green eyes… my Sunshine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But what if... (next chapter)


	13. What could have been (an alternate ending)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, our alternate ending. Because sometimes life surprises us when we least expect it.

**Ch. 13 - What Could Have Been (An Alternate Ending)**

Bill looked up to face the end of Harry’s wand. 

“Nothing personal,” Harry said. “But...you’d tell the first chance you got,” he guessed. 

“Nothing pers-” 

A loud noise was heard just outside of the master bedroom where Bill had been locked in for days. Harry turned and lifted his wand in the direction of the door but he wasn’t quick enough; the door banged open and a flash of red hit Harry straight in his chest, stunning him. He fell to the floor as a tall cloaked figure strode in his direction. 

When Harry woke up, light headed and slightly nauseous, he found he couldn't really move his limbs. His wrists strained against something rough and, after he blinked a couple of times, he understood what it was. He was strapped to a chair facing Bill, who was still strapped to the headboard. His eyes were wild as he looked at the third figure in the room. Harry tried to stabilise his sight, and turned his head to where Bill had been looking. 

A tall, pale, white-blond man stood with his wand at the ready, dressed in elegant black robes lined with silver. Though he looked much older than the last time Harry had seen him, and the expression he bore was no longer one of arrogance, Harry immediately recognised Lucius Malfoy. 

“What the-”

“Quiet!” The man rasped in a loud voice. Though his clothes remained luxurious and expensive, his long hair was no longer shiny and sleek; its messy appearance showed the despair within. “You will get what's coming to you at last. How long I waited for this moment...”

Harry tried to work his wrists behind his back, glaring into Malfoy's grey eyes.

“Why? You left the country years ago. Why did you come back?” he asked. 

“You know why. At first, I was going to kill you to take revenge on your disgusting swine of a father for taking Draco’s life. It took me years to gather the courage to do it, to come up with a plan to end your life and not get caught. So I started stalking you, following you around to know what your daily routine was like.”

Malfoy paced the room, twirling his wand in his hand. 

“But then, I found something curious… you would disappear for hours at a time, completely gone without anyone noticing… I wondered where and what you could be doing. I still have my connections, you know… and you must not forget my wife is your father's cousin. She told me about a cabin owned by one of her deranged aunts, a cabin that was passed on to Sirius. I checked all possible registries and coincidentally, there was no record of said cabin. Almost like someone didn't want it to ever be found. So, naturally, I had to see for myself if it still existed.”

Harry glared at the blond man, still trying to free himself. He was sure Malfoy could see him tug at the ropes but he didn't seem to mind. 

“It shouldn't have surprised me to see you dismembering the body of one Amycus Carrow. The son of a murderer becomes a murderer himself. How well you hid your true identity… what a façade you've put next to Shacklebolt, a noble high ranking Auror chasing Britain's deadliest man…"

Harry ground his teeth as Malfoy went on, this time facing him and gripping his wand harder. 

“I guess it's all the more reason for me to destroy you, isn't it? And now I see you have made a hostage… your best friend's brother. Talk about noble…”

“What are you going to do?” Bill asked, still unsure of his fate at this point. 

Malfoy looked at him for a moment and then directed his wand at a struggling Harry. 

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” he shouted. 

Harry's eyes flashed greener than ever before. His head lolled lifelessly, hitting his chest. His wrists were no longer struggling to get out of the ropes. 

“Does this answer your question, Weasley?” Malfoy asked, still gripping his wand tightly. His eyes were bloodshot and wide open, as were Bill's. 

The redhead nodded affirmatively, sweating and afraid of what would happen to him. 

“Malfoy, please let me go. He was going to kill me.”

“So should I. You're a witness, an unfortunate one, but a witness nevertheless.”

“You're not a murderer. Your son was killed. You got your revenge. I'll help you get rid of his body and I'll be your alibi if your name ever comes up. For all I know, I saw you come by at Gringott's!”

Bill's voice was desperate, he didn't want to be another body buried next to Harry. Malfoy paced around the room for some time, trying to make up his mind.

“I'll swear to it,” Bill added quietly. 

Looking at the redhead, Malfoy assented. He lifted his wand and released Weasley from his binds. He muttered a quick _Aguamenti_ on a nearby empty bowl and handed it to the young man. Without much need for words, both men made short work of Harry's corpse, dismembering it with the use of magic and getting rid of any residue. They wiped down every inch of the cabin, including where the murders took place, concluding that leaving it for the Aurors to find could raise too many questions. Malfoy didn't seem to mind that Harry's reputation would still be intact, without the world ever knowing he was the true killer. Bill tried not to dwell on it, but as he looked into Malfoy's bloodshot eyes, he didn’t think he found much relief or compensation for the death of his son. 

They left the cabin with an unspoken understanding that this would never again be mentioned. 

**1 Week Later**

Bill placed flowers on the spot where Harry was buried. Orchids and roses. Harry’s favorites. Harry was a workaholic...and twisted...but Bill loved that Harry had a soft spot for flowers and nature. Maybe that’s why this place had been special to him and Sirius. Both loved nature. They loved to come here and be free. To be themselves and not what others thought they were.

No one knew this place so he didn’t fear the flowers being found. 

“I truly am sorry for fooling around on you,” he said. “Even knowing what you were. I know now that your heart was never mine.” 

He stood up and turned away. Back to his life. Back to her.

“Maybe...in another time. Maybe in another story,” he whispered, hoping Harry was at peace now.

* * *

Sirius waited. 

Each time his door opened, he anticipated untidy black hair and shining green eyes. Each time, he was disappointed. Until the day gray rain clouds rolled in and covered the sun.

Analese had handed him the newspaper. Sirius stared at the picture of Harry that had been used. 

“I’m sure they’ll find him soon,” she assured, unaware of Sirius’ thoughts. “Oh…” her pin on her uniform lapel flashed. It was magicked to alert her to an emergency. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Black,” she promised and left the room in a hurry.

Gray eyes looked up. In her rush, he saw she had dropped something.

Her wand.

He picked it up as the storm outside came down harder. Harry wasn’t missing. Not abducted or lying somewhere injured. He was not coming back, and he had caught word that Bill Weasley was free. 

Sirius knew. A father knew. He was cold and empty. His warm sunshine...was gone. Marlene wasn’t a fool after all. She had the right idea all along. Sirius raised the tip of the wand to his temple. 

“Sunshine...Harry…” he whispered. “ _Obliviate_.”

* * *

“Why?” Miriam Strout asked, staring at the new transfer to her ward as he was no longer deemed a threat. His brain was too damaged. 

“Guilt?” the head Healer suggested. “He took a lot of lives so maybe it finally took a toll. He couldn’t live with it anymore,” he said, taking notes. 

Miriam stared at the original Dollmaker. His face looked peaceful. Serene. His lips pulled into a smile. Not the cocky smirk he had offered staff before, but a genuine smile. Wherever he was in his mind, he was happy. 

“What are you thinking about, Mr. Black?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

He looked up and smiled. “Green,” he said. “Emeralds. Outside.” His smile widened and he laughed softly. 

Miriam nodded. “Is that all, Mr. Black?” she asked. 

Outside, the clouds finally parted and light flooded into the room at last. Sirius Black looked up.

“Sunshine...my Sunshine.”


End file.
